Flying Home for Christmas
by PeaceBaby7
Summary: Strong Skilene. Humanized. Skipper has to fly to a meeting in Seattle, Washington—all the way across the nation—last minute, only a few days before Christmas. He promised Marlene he'd be home in time. Can he keep his promise, or will he spend his Christmas alone in an unfamiliar town? Rated T for kissing (oops, spoiler!).
1. A Noble Sacrifice

**Author's Note:** For anyone who's already read this story, know that no changes have been made barring some grammatical corrections. The only major change that has been made is separating this into chapters. For any new readers, enjoy!

— § —

**Chapter 1: A Noble Sacrifice**

"I just wish I knew why they couldn't schedule this meeting until _after _Christmas," Marlene said with a heavy heart as she and Skipper walked through the airport.

"Don't worry, Marlene. I'll be back for Christmas. This whole thing was situational. It isn't something that can wait," Skipper replied.

Marlene hugged herself. "I hope so. Christmas wouldn't be the same without you guys," she said.

Skipper smiled and came to a stop, sitting his suitcase on the ground next to him. "Come here," he said, taking her by the waist. He looked into her chocolate-brown eyes. "I _promise_ you that I'll do whatever it takes to be home for Christmas. Now, have I ever broken any of my promises?"

Marlene sighed. "No," she said submissively. "I'm just worried. Christmas is only four days away."

Skipper nudged her. "Well, don't be. All right?" he said assuringly. Marlene smiled insecurely and nodded. Skipper pulled her closer. "That's my girl. I'll call you when I get to Seattle," he told her.

"And not a minute later," Marlene said with a grin.

Skipper grinned back and pressed his lips against hers. A few seconds later, someone cleared their throat next to them and they parted.

"Sorry, Skipper," Kowalski said awkwardly, "we need to board."

Skipper looked at Marlene. "I'll see you at Christmas," he said with a smile.

Marlene nodded. "Have a nice flight."

Skipper picked up his bag and joined Kowalski as they, Rico, and Private left to board their flight.

— § —

The next morning, Marlene sat at her kitchen table stirring a cinnamon stick in a cup of hot chocolate, staring at a picture of her and Skipper on their first date. It would absolutely just break her heart if he couldn't get home by Christmas. Of course, she wouldn't blame him. There would just be a hole in her Christmas day if they didn't come back in time.

Her phone rang and she read "Skipper" on the caller ID. "Skipper?" she answered.

"_Hey, Marlene. I just wanted to let you know that I've already booked a flight back to Manhattan on the morning of the twenty-third and I should be there sometime in the afternoon,"_ Skipper replied.

Marlene smiled. "That's great. I thought you were in that meeting now?"

"_We're taking a ten-minute recess. Thought I'd give a quick call. Everything okay?"_ he asked.

"If I say no, will you come back now?" Marlene asked with a touch of doubt.

Skipper laughed half-heartedly. "_I'm sorry, Marlene. Look, I gotta go. Call you when I can, okay?"_

"All right. Bye, Skipper," Marlene said disappointedly.

"_Not bye, Marlene. See you later,"_ Skipper replied.

Marlene smiled. "See you later."

The line went dead and she set her phone down with a sigh.

In Seattle, Skipper tucked his phone into his inside breast pocket and looked down in thought. Kowalski came up to him.

"Was lying to her really the best way to go about things, Skipper? What if you can't make it or she finds out?" he asked.

Skipper sighed. "I know. But I couldn't tell her all the flights were cancelled due to inclement weather. I promised her I'd find a way and I will."

"By doing what, hitchhiking down a frozen interstate?" Kowalski asked, crossing his arms.

Skipper narrowed his eyes. "I could use a little support, here."

Kowalski rolled his eyes. "Fine, but later. We've got to get back to the meeting."

— § —

At about seven o'clock the next morning—the morning of the twenty-third—Skipper checked all flights to Manhattan from today until Christmas morning on his laptop. All were still cancelled. Apparently the snow was falling like it was going out of style. How was he supposed to get home? More importantly, how would he tell Marlene if he couldn't make it in time?

"Morning, Skipper," Kowalski said, coming into the small kitchen in a white tee with Bill Nye pajama bottoms, his black hair in a tousled mess. "Flights still cancelled?" he asked, grabbing a coffee cup.

"Yeah," Skipper said with a sigh. He watched as Rico came into the kitchen carrying Private over his shoulder, despite the fact that he was twenty years old. He sat him at the counter and he groggily laid his head down with a moan. "Sleep much, soldier?" he asked with a humorous grin.

Private moaned again.

Skipper chuckled and slid the plate of bacon to him. "Here, eat something. It'll wake you right up."

Private picked his head up like it weighed five tons. "The bed in my room isn't mine," he pouted as he propped his head up on his fist and fiddled with a piece of bacon.

Skipper patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll get us home soon," he assured the little homesick cadet.

"How?" Kowalski said, setting his cup on the counter and stirring cream into it. "With the way the weather's been, it could be next week, maybe even longer before a flight opens up. Even then, that doesn't guarantee that we'll get a flight straight from here to Manhattan."

Rico poured a cup of coffee, squirted cream straight into his mouth, and then drank about half the cup full down with it. Kowalski grimaced at him.

"Not even science can figure you out," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. Rico shrugged and snatched a piece of bacon, holding it in his mouth as he took his coffee and the cream away from the kitchen.

"I do have an idea, but I'm not sure how to make it work," Skipper piped up.

Kowalski spat his coffee back into his cup. "To figure Rico out?" he asked in genuine shock.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "No, to get back to Manhattan by Christmas," he corrected.

Kowalski let out a relieved sigh. "For a second, I thought _you'd_ lost your mind. What's your idea?"

"Well, there are some open flights at Eastern Oregon Regional Airport, just northwest of Pendleton. It's only about a four and half hour drive away, but we don't have our car. It would take a whole day to take transit."

"Why can't we rent a car?" Private suggested.

"Because we'd have to leave it at the airport. Someone would have to bring it back and pay the bill," Skipper said. "Unless we can find someone with nothing better to do to deliver it, which I'd doubt."

"Well, Skipper," Kowalski started, "if that's all you're worried about, I'll drive the car back."

Skipper looked up at him as he gave him a sincere smile.

"No, Kowalski, I couldn't ask you to do that. I'm not going to leave you behind," Skipper insisted, tapping at his keyboard.

Kowalski laughed as if he knew he was going to say that. "Skipper, really. Consider it my Christmas gift to you."

Skipper gave him a look. "You forgot to go shopping again, didn't you?"

Kowalski awkwardly sipped at his coffee and looked at the ceiling. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Nonetheless, I can't just leave you here in Seattle. It's either all of us or none of us," he insisted.

Kowalski thought for a moment. "You know, that guy from the meeting—Max, I believe his name was—he said he'd be willing to do you a favor after you helped him solve that case. Why don't you give him a call and see if he'd be up to it?" he suggested.

Skipper pursed his lips in thought. "I'd hate to drag him all the way to Oregon. It'd be a whole nine-hour drive for him," he said.

"Well, if you explain that you're just trying to get home for Christmas, I'm sure he would love to do it in spirit. Besides, he'd be back before Christmas Eve. Only if you call now, though," Kowalski urged.

Skipper nodded. "All right, you convinced me. I'll go find his number."

He went into his room and dug into the pockets of the suit he'd worn yesterday and pulled out Max Wayne's number and called him on his cell phone.

"_Wayne,"_ he answered.

"Hey, Max, it's Skipper. Saw you at the meeting yesterday?" Skipper replied.

"_Oh, hey! What's up?"_

"Look, remember when you said if I needed anything to call?" he asked.

"_Yeah, you had something in mind?"_ Max asked.

"Yeah . . ." Skipper said slowly. "It's kind of a huge favor, really, and I'd understand if you're not up to it."

"_Try me,"_ Max urged.

"Well, I'd really like to be home, in Manhattan, for Christmas, but all the flights are cancelled due to all the snow. The nearest airport with available flights is at the airport near Pendleton, Oregon. The quickest way to get there is by car, but I'd have to rent one, but then someone would have to bring it back to the rental dealership and I can't leave one of my unit behind. I was just wondering if—"

"_Say no more, pal. I'll drive the car back for you,"_ Max agreed.

Skipper smiled, almost speechless. "Wow, really? Thank you so much, this really means a lot to me. I promise I'll pay for anything there and back: food, gas, the rent, whatever."

"_No problem. But we'd better get going if I'm gonna make it back before it gets too late. That's a long drive,"_ Max said.

"Absolutely," Skipper agreed, "where do you live?"

"_Seattle Apartments at 2312 3rd Avenue. I'll meet you in the lobby,"_ Max told him.

Skipper jotted down the address. "I'll be there in half an hour. And thanks again," he said.

"_No problem! It's Christmas! See you later,"_ he told him.

"See you," Skipper said before ending the call. It seemed his luck was turning.

— § —

To pass the time, Marlene decided to buy a small Christmas tree and some decorations for it to put in her apartment. She walked around the tree, adjusting the tinsel and ornaments, strategically placing small candy canes here and there, and feeling lonely while doing it.

When she finished, she looked over her masterpiece. A crease formed between her eyes when she realized something was missing from it. She snapped her fingers.

"A star!" she thought aloud. She went in thought when she realized she hadn't bought a star to put on top. Then a thought came to her: why not just make her own star? It would help pass even more time.

After laying out as many arts-n-crafts supplies as she could find in her apartment on her kitchen counter, she set to work.

She worked for about an hour when there was a knock at the door and she answered to Becky and Stacy, her cousins who lived two floors up.

"Cousin!" they exclaimed simultaneously as they hugged either side of her.

"Hey—cousins!" Marlene replied with barely enough time to react to what just happened. "Look at you—here—in my apartment"—she lowered her voice under her breath—"with no prior notice whatsoever . . ." She shut the door behind them.

Stacy—who was a tan brunette wearing a black sweater with red poinsettias etched all over it, jeans, and brown knee-high boots—turned to her. "Oh, come now, Marlene! You know spontaneity is our middle name! We were talking about who to send Christmas cards to and when we thought of you, we realized we hadn't seen you in _ages_!"

Becky—who was a bit lighter-skinned and blonde, and was wearing a white sweater with Rudolph on the front, jeans, and red flats with golden-colored bells etched into the toe—looked at the tree in the center of her apartment and squealed with delight. "Aw, Marlene! Look at you in the Christmas spirit!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Marlene inquired.

"We heard about Skipper being out of town. I'm sorry he won't be home for Christmas," Becky said, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly.

Marlene pushed away and tucked her hair behind her ear with an uncertain laugh. "No, he called me yesterday. He said he booked a flight for this morning and would be back by this afternoon," she told them.

Becky and Stacy exchanged a knowing look, both frowning.

"Marlene," Stacy started, putting her hand on her shoulder, "I don't know how to tell you this, but all the flights have been cancelled to and from Washington."

Marlene's face contorted in confusion. "What? No, you're wrong. Skipper told me he booked the flight."

"Well," Becky broke in, "he probably just didn't want you to worry. He's probably hoping he'll find another way. Trust us, Marlene. We looked at available flights when we were trying to decide when to go see other relatives for Christmas. We happened to see that flight schedule. The snow is crazy over there. I'm sorry, Marlene."

Marlene looked down and pushed Stacy's hand away. "I'll be right back," she said, pushing through them and grabbing her coat off the hook on the wall. Slipping it on, she went out on the terrace and pulled out her cell phone.

— § —

"All right, boys, we're taking the nonstop to Manhattan at 1430 hours," Skipper said as they climbed into the rental van, brushing the snow off their shoulders. It was coming down pretty steadily now.

"Great," Kowalski said, shutting their luggage into the trunk. "I guess things will work out after all."

"We get to be home for Christmas!" Private said happily from the back seat. Rico smiled and offered him a bite of his popcorn ball that he'd doused in chocolate syrup. Private declined the offer by pressing his lips together and shaking his head back and forth. Rico shrugged and took a big bite out of it, leaving the syrup all around his mouth.

"And that is why I bought plenty of these," Kowalski said, handing a roll of paper towels back to him as he settled in the passenger seat.

"Buckle up, everyone. And Rico, I swear, if you get one stain in this car, I'm making you lick it clean," Skipper warned.

Rico thought for a moment. "Okay!" he said with a smile that, much to the team's worry, seemed legit. Then again, Rico had done stranger things.

Just as Skipper started the engine, his phone rang in his thick winter jacket pocket. He read Marlene's name on the screen and answered as he pulled out of the lot.

"Hey, Marlene. Everything all right?" he answered.

"_Skipper, I was just wondering, are you still booked for that flight for this morning?"_ Marlene asked, ignoring his question.

Skipper took a breath as he prepared himself to lie again. "Yes, Marlene. Everything's going to work out fine."

"_Skipper, I'm looking at the flight schedule to and from Washington on my phone right now. All of them are cancelled,"_ Marlene replied.

Skipper pushed his head back into the seat in defeat. He had to remind himself he couldn't close his eyes or he'd crash.

"I'm really sorry, Marlene," he said slowly. "I just didn't want you to worry. And you still don't have to, I've found an alternative. I'm driving to an airport near Pendleton in a rental. A friend will drive the rental back while we take the flight nonstop to Manhattan. I should be there sometime tonight."

There was silence for a moment.

"_How do I know you're telling the truth this time?"_ Marlene asked. Skipper could hear the tears in her voice. "_As much as I want you home for Christmas, I don't want you to give me false hope."_

Skipper listened to her shaky breathing through the receiver and looked at the snow on the side of the road. "I'm telling the truth, Marlene. You can trust me."

Marlene waited a moment before replying. "_All right. I believe you,"_ she said slowly. "_But don't lie to me again. I do trust you, Skipper, and I don't want that to change."_

Skipper nodded as if she could see him. "You can trust me, Marlene," he repeated. "I gotta go. Love you."

"_Love you, too, Skipper,"_ she replied before disconnecting the line.

Skipper dropped his phone back in his pocket and turned into Seattle Apartments, where a chaotic scene was unfolding. There was an ambulance parked in front of the building with a small crowd of people around taking photos and video. Skipper parked by the curb several feet back and turned to his team.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said, getting out. He jogged down the sidewalk and moved around the onlookers when he saw Max about to climb into the back of the ambulance.

"Max!" Skipper called, jogging to the back of the ambulance. Max poked his head back out and his face fell in shock, as if he couldn't believe he was there.

"Skipper," he said, jumping down and putting his hands on his shoulders, "look, man, I am so sorry. It's my wife, she's going into labor! Can you believe it? I'm going to officially be a Dad! When it happened, I completely forgot. I'm gonna—"

"_Max! If you don't get in this ambulance right now I'll drive it up your—!"_

"Coming, darling!" Max called back into the ambulance. "Look, I gotta go. I'm so sorry. I wish you luck!" he said, climbing back into the ambulance.

"It's fine," Skipper called back half-heartedly. "Congratulations."

Skipper shrugged his way back to the van and slumped into the seat, resting his head on the headrest with his eyes shut.

"What happened, Skipper?" Kowalski inquired.

Skipper started laughing. "Just my luck happened," he said, sitting his elbow on the windowsill and resting his forehead on the palm of his hand. "Max's wife is going into labor. Now. Of course, it had to be now! It's been nine months, it couldn't wait another day?" he asked no one in particular—perhaps Cruel Fate.

"What are you going to tell Marlene? You said you wouldn't lie to her anymore," Private asked from the back seat.

Skipper stared absent-mindedly out the windshield as the ambulance left the parking lot and the commotion died down.

"I don't know, Private," he said quietly.

Kowalski looked at him sympathetically and sighed. "You won't have to tell her anything because we're _going _to that airport," he said.

Skipper scoffed and shook his head. "And what about the car, Kowalski? They might charge just a _bit_ extra to get someone to go to Oregon to pick it up," he said, looking at him irritably.

"_Because_," Kowalski said sternly, "_I'm_ going to bring the car back."

"No," Skipper said, looking out the window, "I already told you that's not happening. There's no way I'm leaving you behind, especially on Christmas."

"And there's no way I'm going to stand by and let you crush Marlene _and_ yourself when I could've done something. Now, Rico's cooking all the food, Private's homesick, and me? I'm just there for the fun. No one really needs me there."

"Maybe not, but we all _want_ you there. I'm not leaving you in Washington and that's final, Kowalski," Skipper insisted.

"Skipper, if we're going to make that flight, we need to drive _now_. Really, I have no problem waiting here for a flight to open up. I'll take the first one back to Manhattan. If it's after Christmas, so be it! Let me do this for you, Skipper!" Kowalski pleaded.

"No! I'm not! And I believe I outrank you, so what I say, goes!" Skipper argued.

Kowalski unbuckled his seatbelt and angled himself toward him. "Oh, don't you throw that up to me! This is _not_ work, and we are _not_ at the precinct! It's Christmas, for Einstein's sake! I'm trying to help you, but you're just too hardheaded to let me!"

Skipper angled toward him. "And I'm telling you that Christmas is a time to be together, to be with the ones you care about! You're one of those people I care about, Kowalski! I'm _not_ leaving you behind!"

"And you're one of those people I care about, Skipper! You're absolutely right! Christmas is a time to be with the ones you love, and the one that loves you is about to have her heart crushed into the snow because you broke your promise to her and didn't make it home for Christmas when you _know _I could've gotten you there!"

Skipper was about to respond, but the image of Marlene crying on Christmas because he broke his promise to her—because he was too stubborn to accept Kowalski's help—when all he had to do was say yes to Kowalski to be there. She was looking forward to him being there and her one fear was that he wouldn't make it. He promised her he would and he was already coming close to breaking his promise to her. He broke eye contact and looked at the dashboard.

"Even if I agree to this now," he said softly, "I'm not sure how easy it'll be for me to just leave you at the airport."

Kowalski smiled. "Well, in that case, I hope that thick winter coat weighs you down so I can outrun you."

Skipper looked at Kowalski as he relaxed back in his seat and buckled his seatbelt.

"I guess it's settled then. We should get going," he said, turning back to him with a warm smile.

Skipper pressed his lips together and looked at Rico and Private in the backseat. Private was fiddling with his fingertips and looked away when Skipper turned to him. Rico was holding a large chip halfway to his mouth, which was hanging open, and he was looking between Skipper and Kowalski. When Skipper looked at him he awkwardly finished the chip's journey and a loud _crunch_ reverberated throughout the van. Skipper looked at him bitterly and Rico held the bag out to him, offering him a chip. Skipper shook his head and looked at Kowalski.

"I really don't know what to say, Kowalski. 'Thank you' just doesn't seem to be enough," he said softly.

"Don't worry about it," Kowalski replied. "Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and a flight will open up soon."

"And of course that'd be my luck," Skipper said, buckling his seatbelt and starting the engine. "Go through all this trouble and _then_ a flight opens up."

"Well, better not to take the chance," Kowalski said as Skipper started pulling out of the parking lot. He stopped to wait for traffic.

"I owe you, Kowalski," Skipper said, looking at him with serious eyes. "More than you know."

Kowalski smiled. "Enjoy your Christmas with Marlene, Skipper. That's all the payment I'll need."


	2. Christmas Clichés and Breaking the Rules

**Chapter 2: Christmas Clichés and Breaking the Rules**

"All right, peoples! Let's keep things moving!" Julien commanded as the residents decorated the apartment building's cafeteria they'd rented out.

"You could help, you know," Roy asked irritably as he set a candle on a table.

"I am helping! I am being the technical supervisor guy. I'm good at that," Julien said smugly. Roy rolled his eyes and continued setting a candle in the middle of each table. He turned as Marlene walked in with Becky and Stacy.

"Ah! Hello, ladies!" he said, approaching them with open arms. He took Becky's and Stacy's hands. "_Enchante, mademoiselles,_" he said, kissing each of their hands. Marlene rolled her eyes as Becky and Stacy exchanged a humorous glance.

"Hey, Julien," Marlene said, "we just came down to see how things were coming, maybe help out a little."

"Well, of course!" Julien replied. "We are always welcoming three lovely ladies to the party," he said suavely, causing Becky and Stacy to smile and Marlene to cock an eyebrow. "Anyway," Julien continued, "any word from the guys?"

Marlene shifted her weight uncomfortably. "They'll be here sometime tonight," she said, trying to hide her anxiety.

Julien knit his eyebrows. "You don't seem too sure about that," he observed.

"They'll be here," Marlene insisted before walking off.

Julien looked at Becky and Stacy inquisitively, but they just held their hands up like they didn't want to say anything and followed her.

"Marlene," Stacy said, tenderly placing a hand on her shoulder as she rummaged through a box, "are you sure you want to be down here? I can tell you're really worried about this."

"I'm fine," Marlene insisted. "I just need something to distract me."

Becky and Stacy exchanged a glance, and then they smiled as the same thought crossed through their minds.

"Then we'll help," they said simultaneously.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow and watched as they crossed the room to where a radio was sitting idle on a table. Becky hit a button and adjusted the frequency, then turned it up loud enough to fill the room with "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." Everyone turned as Becky and Stacy started moving to the beat.

"I say it's time for a break!" Becky called. The two crossed the room back to Marlene and each took an arm as they dragged her to the center of the room.

"Whoa, no, guys, I don't really feel up to—"

"Come on, Marlene!" Becky insisted.

"The only way to make time fly is to have some _fun_!" Stacy added as they started dancing with her. Soon enough everyone else dropped what they were doing and joined in. While Julien took Stacy and shared a dance with her, Becky continued to encourage Marlene to let loose. Marlene glanced around at everyone around her having a good time and without realizing it, she too was moving to the beat.

With a smile, she decided to forget her troubles, and she danced with all her friends.

— § —

"I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna kill him!" Skipper said, hitting the steering wheel as they sat idle on the side of the frozen interstate.

"Well, you know Rico gets hungry when he travels," Kowalski said, trying to calm him down.

"But we're already running behind! It seems like everything that _could_ go wrong _is_ going wrong! Is he done yet?" he asked, trying to see Rico out of Kowalski's window. He could just barely see him crouched by a bush, holding his stomach.

Kowalski sighed. "Maybe. Look on the bright side, at least you managed to pull over first," he suggested.

Skipper gripped the top of the steering wheel with both hands and rested his forehead on his knuckles. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't look to see who it was.

"Don't give up hope, Skipper," said Private's voice. "I'm sure we'll find a way. We always do, don't we?"

"There's a first time for everything, Private," Skipper said irresolutely.

Private exchanged a glance with Kowalski as Rico climbed back in the car, his face a sickly green.

"How do you feel, Rico?" Kowalski asked.

Rico put his seat back and turtled into his jacket with a moan.

"I'm going to take that as well enough to move on," Kowalski said, nudging Skipper to put the car in gear.

Skipper sat back and started them moving again. "What time is it?" he asked with a sigh.

Kowalski checked his watch. "Nearly eleven," he answered.

Skipper scoffed. "We still have just over two hours to drive. There's no way we'll be able to pick up our tickets and get through security before the flight leaves."

"Sorry, Skipper . . ." Rico mumbled in the backseat.

Skipper looked at him in the rearview mirror and sighed. "It's all right, Rico. It's not your fault," he said, "_mostly_," he added under his breath.

Kowalski thought for a moment and smiled. "I know, maybe some Christmas music will help cheer you up."

He turned on the radio and turned up the volume. He nearly facepalmed when he realized what was playing.

_. . . a long road back, and I promise you._

_I'll be home for Christmas._

_You can count on me._

_Please have snow, and mistletoe,_

_And presents under the tree—_

Kowalski awkwardly reached over and changed the station. He smiled. This one wasn't so bad. He frowned when the chorus started.

_. . . tuning up all the Jing-Jing-Jinglin' sleigh bells_

_And rehearsing jolly Ho Ho Hos_

_Oh, don't you know that one way or another_

_I'll be coming home for Christmas day!_

_Doesn't matter any kind of weather_

_You know that I'll always find a way!—_

This time, Skipper reached over and changed the station as Kowalski fiddled with his fingers in his lap.

_. . . my own in a big red bow!_

_Santa, can you hear me?_

_I have been so good this year._

_And all I want is one thing:_

_Tell me my true love is near!_

_He's all I want! Just for me!_

_Underneath my Christmas tree!_

_I'll be waiting here._

_Santa that's my only wish this year—_

Kowalski reached over and switched the radio off. "Maybe later," he said with a nervous smile, internally cursing at himself. Of course, the old 'every station reminds me of my problems' gag. What a cliché.

— § —

Around half after noon, Marlene and her cousins were elbow deep in flour and cookie dough.

"I'll get the cookie cutters," Marlene said before realizing there was flour all over her hands. She laughed. "Probably should've grabbed them _before_ getting the dough ready."

She grabbed a towel from next to the sink and wrapped it around her hand, using it to open a cabinet and pulling out a jar of holiday cookie cutters.

Becky took it from her and dumped the contents onto the counter. "Ooh! I want the mistletoe!" she squealed, taking that particular cutter and pushing it into her cookie dough. Stacy grabbed an angel and pressed it into hers.

Marlene looked over the cookie cutters and spotted a snowman. She took it in her hands. It reminded her of this one time she had a sinus infection near the holidays. She was miserable and couldn't do much of anything than eat, sleep, and watch television. Skipper would come check on her when he wasn't busy with anything. One of those times, he came in and surprised her with a big bucket of snow. The two of them made a tiny snowman together. It left her fingers numb, but she had fun doing it. She pressed the snowman cutter into her dough and promised herself that that one would be for Skipper when he returned tonight.

"Everything all right, Marlene?" Becky asked, pushing a gingerbread man into her dough.

"Yeah, I just thought of something is all," Marlene replied, pushing a star into hers.

"Well, think about the cookies!" Stacy said. "We're doing this to keep your mind occupied from certain things and _certain people_," she told her, giving her a stern look.

Marlene nodded. "Right. The cookies. And thanks for trying to help," she said.

"No problem, cousin! Think fast!" Becky said, poking her cheek, leaving a spot of flour behind.

"Hey!" Marlene said, trying to reach Becky's face, but she held her wrist. Marlene used her free hand to throw some at her, but some of it landed on Stacy as well.

Eventually, the three of them were covered in flour, their cookies forgotten.

— § —

"Yes, I was planning a flight to Manhattan at two-thirty, but I'm not going to make it. Can you tell me when the next nonstop to Manhattan is?" Skipper asked someone at the Eastern Oregon Regional Airport as he sat idle in traffic just twenty minutes away, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"_Just a moment,"_ the woman on the other end said, "_looks like the next nonstop to Manhattan isn't until nine-twenty tonight, sir."_

Skipper shoved his tongue into his cheek. "You're sure there's nothing earlier?"

"_Well, if you're in a hurry, there's a three-ten to Scottsbluff, Nebraska and you can take a flight straight from there to Manhattan and be there just after midnight,"_ she suggested.

Skipper considered. "Can you hold on a moment?"

"_Yes, sir."_

Skipper muted his receiver and looked at Private and Rico in the rear view mirror. "The next nonstop is at nine-twenty tonight, but she said there's a three-ten to Nebraska and take a flight straight from there to Manhattan."

"Fine with me," Private answered.

Rico just held up a water bottle, as if in toast, and then downed the rest of it. Skipper took it as a yes.

"Ma'am?" he said into his phone after unmuting it.

"_Yes, sir?"_ the woman answered.

"Thank you for your help," Skipper said.

"_You're welcome, sir. Have a wonderful day, and a Merry Christmas!"_ the woman replied.

"You, too," Skipper said before hanging up. "Come on, we're almost there!" he shouted at the traffic in front of him, which was moving just a couple car lengths every half hour. There was an accident that'd occurred ahead because of the ice and the policemen had to gradually direct traffic into the right lane.

Rico reached a Hershey Kiss around his seat. "Kiss?" he offered.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "No," he declined. Then he thought for a moment. "Yes," he said, holding his hand back to him. Rico dropped a Kiss into it. He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth. He let the chocolate melt in his mouth.

"Skipper, it's only one-thirty," Kowalski said. "We're not too far off. In fact, I think I see our exit right up there," he said, pointing down the road.

Skipper thought for a moment. "Hey, Private," he called.

"Yes, Skipper?" Private called back.

"Do me a favor. Crawl to the back of the van and find my suitcase. My badge is in the small pocket in the front. Get it for me," he told him.

"Um, okay," Private said, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Why?"

"Just do it, all right?" Skipper replied.

Private climbed between the seats and rummaged through the luggage in the back. A couple minutes later, he produced Skipper's badge and he turned around. "Here it is."

"Climb back in your seat," Skipper said. Private did as told and buckled himself back in. He handed Skipper his badge. "Thanks. Now, everyone hold on."

The team exchanged a glance.

Kowalski looked at him warily. "Why do we have to hold on?"

Skipper smiled. "Let's just say I'm glad we had to get in the right lane," he said as he pulled the car to the right and started driving down the emergency lane.

"Skipper! This is illegal! I shouldn't have to tell you that, you're a cop!" Kowalski scolded.

Skipper clenched his teeth. "I know that, Kowalski. I'm not proud of it, but it's Christmas, and I made a promise to Marlene. If I get pulled over, I'll just show 'em my badge and move on."

"Skipper, you're abusing your shield! That's illegal too!" Kowalski argued.

"You think I don't know that, Kowalski?" Skipper said, turning at the Exit. "It's once in seventeen years of service! Let it go."

Kowalski laughed incredulously and ran his hand over his face. "Could you at least slow down? The flight leaves at three-ten, not in ten minutes. That's another law you're breaking, by the way."

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, easing off the gas. But before he got the chance, a flash of blue and red lights blinked behind them. Skipper was expecting that to happen with the policemen dealing with the accident on the interstate. He pulled over and waited for the officer to come to his door before rolling down his window.

"License and registration, please," she asked. She was a stout African-American woman with her head covered in a thick hat that covered the top of her small ears. Her nametag read MEREB.

Skipper showed her his badge. "Ma'am, I'm police. I need to be somewhere."

Mereb examined his badge. "That's a New York Police badge, sir. Why are you in Oregon? More importantly, why are you in Oregon trying to use your New York badge to get out of a speeding ticket?"

"I—I'm tracking a lead, ma'am," he lied.

Mereb narrowed her eyes. "And who are they?" she asked, pointing to the other three in the car.

"They're my unit. They came with me," Skipper answered.

Mereb set her jaw in thought. "Let me get your badge number and confirm this. Which precinct do you work for?"

Skipper blinked. "Ma'am, we're in a hurry here. If we don't go now, we could miss our lead."

In the passenger seat, Kowalski fidgeted. He hated Skipper lowering himself to lying to a policeman, especially when he was one himself, but he understood why he was doing it. He made a promise to Marlene, and he never broke his promises. He sighed.

"Officer," he called. Mereb leaned down so she could see him. "Please. If we don't catch this lead and solve this case, we can't go home. My son wants me home for Christmas, and I want to be there," he lied.

Mereb looked down for a moment, and then sighed. "Fine. Consider this a Christmas warning. Go on," she said before walking back to her vehicle without waiting for a reply.

Skipper looked at him. "Thanks," he said with a grateful smile. "I'm sorry I lied . . . again."

Kowalski looked at the road in front of them. "Don't worry about it. It's Christmas," he said, looking toward him with an understanding smile. "We should go. But, uh, go the speed limit, all right?" he added with a grin.

Skipper put the car in gear. "Fine, if you want to take the fun out of everything," he said with a laugh.

Private pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm really confused, are you two still mad at each other or are we okay now?"

Skipper and Kowalski laughed. Private propped his head up by his fist.

"I'm taking that as a yes," he muttered.

— § —

At the airport, Skipper, Rico, and Private grabbed their luggage from the rental, which consisted of one suitcase and one carry-on each, and started their goodbyes to Kowalski.

Private hugged him. "I'll miss you, Kowalski! I hope you make it home for Christmas!" he told him.

Kowalski patted his back. "Don't worry about me, Private. I'll see you soon."

Rico grasped his hand and pressed his shoulder to his, using his other hand to pat his back. "Miss you, buddy," he said.

"Miss you, too, Rico," Kowalski said, patting his back. They parted and Kowalski turned to Skipper, who was looking at the ground.

"Can you guys, uh, give us a minute?" he requested.

Private and Rico exchanged a glance and nodded as they gathered their luggage and made their way inside the airport.

"Look, Kowalski, I—"

"I know what you're going to say, Skipper," Kowalski interrupted. "You don't need to—"

"No, you don't know what I'm going to say," Skipper said, looking at him with defeated eyes. He crossed his arms and didn't make eye contact. "I know I'm not perfect. There are things in my past I wish I could change. I just wanted you to know that—" He paused and finally met his eye. "I wanted you to know that what you're doing for me now is . . . It's something I could never repay, not fully. I really don't know how to thank you, Kowalski. I don't deserve a friend like you."

Kowalski smiled. "I don't believe that. Besides, Skipper, we're brothers. Whether you deserve one like me or not, you're stuck with me," he said, bracing a hand on his shoulder.

Skipper smiled and they embraced. "I hope to see you in Manhattan real soon," he said over his shoulder.

"You too, Skipper. Now, go. Marlene's waiting for you," he told him, pulling away.

Skipper nodded and grabbed his luggage. "See you on the other side of the nation, Kowalski," he said.

Kowalski gave a salute and Skipper ran off into the airport.

He found Private and Rico waiting in line to get their tickets. Rico was munching on a granola bar.

"Where are you getting all this food?" Skipper asked. Rico opened up his duffel bag to reveal all kinds of snacks. Skipper rolled his eyes. "Of course. Got any Dibbles? I'm starving,"

"Regular or spicy?" Rico asked through his granola bar.

Skipper cocked an eyebrow. "Uh, regular, I guess."

Rico reached into the bag and despite its jumbled mess, he pulled out a bag of Cheezy Dibbles as if each thing had its own specific place and handed it to him. Skipper accepted it in and opened it, popping a Dibble into his mouth.

"What time is it?" he asked between crunches.

Private looked at his cell phone. "Just past two. We might just make it," he said with a smile.

Skipper licked the cheese off his fingers and rolled up the top of the bag before putting it in his jacket pocket. He picked up his luggage and they moved forward with the line. Skipper looked at the flight board and found the Pendleton to Scottsbluff. Next to it read "ON TIME" in big letters. Skipper smiled. "I'm on my way, Marlene," he said softly to himself.

At the desk, a woman sat behind it wearing square, black glasses with her blonde hair tied back in a knot. She was wearing a red Christmas sweater with tiny reindeer all over it, running in different directions.

"Three for the three-ten to Scottsbluff, Nebraska, please," Skipper requested.

"Photo identification, please," the woman requested in a Bronx accent. Skipper, Rico, and Private all handed her their driver's licenses. After processing them, she said, "Twelve hundred thirty dollars, sir. Cash or credit?"

"Credit," Skipper said with a sigh. This was eating up his savings. He scanned his credit card and paid the bill. The woman told them to be through the gates prior to ten minutes before departure. Soon after, the three of them were moving toward the next security checkpoint with their boarding passes.

After getting through the metal detectors, they found their gate just as they were almost finished boarding. Skipper checked the time on his phone—it was just a few minutes until three.

"Hey, you two go ahead and board, I just want to call Marlene for a few seconds before we take off," he told them. Private and Rico nodded and gave their boarding passes to the man at the gate and continued on to the plane.

Skipper took out his cell and dialed Marlene.

"_Skipper?"_ Marlene answered.

"Yeah, it's me. Just letting you know I'm boarding a plane to Nebraska now, and I'll catch a flight to Manhattan from there. I'll be there sometime in the middle of the night," Skipper told her.

Marlene sighed with relief. _"That's great! I'm so glad. I can't wait to see you."_

Skipper smiled. "You, too, Marlene."

"_Last call for boarding at Gate 14,"_ said a voice over the intercom.

"Look, Marlene, I need to go. I'll see you later," Skipper said.

"_All right, Skipper. See you,"_ she said, hanging up.

Skipper turned his phone off and tucked it into his pocket. He turned to head for the gate when he realized he didn't have his boarding pass and felt a momentary sense of panic, but sighed with relief when he realized he'd dropped it a few yards behind him. He picked it up and turned back, his stomach turning over when he saw the man at the gate pulling the door shut.

"Wait!" he called, breaking into a sprint for the door. "Wait, this is my flight."

"Sorry, we just boarded. You should've come earlier," the man said, looking down at him.

"Sir, please, I had to drive all the way from Seattle last minute because the snow is too heavy up there for any flights. My girlfriend's in Manhattan, I promised I'd be there. Please," he begged.

"I'm sorry, sir, the gate is closed. They'll be pulling the airstairs away from the plane now. There's nothing I can do," he said.

Skipper scoffed and put his face in his free hand. "You've got to be kidding me," he said under his breath. "Thanks anyway," he said, turning and trudging back through the airport. _Let's see here,_ Skipper thought, _Kowalski sacrificed going home for Christmas for nothing, four hundred ten dollars down the drain, wasted time, and another plan to get home failed. _He went back to the ticket desk.

"Can I help you?" asked the woman with the glasses.

"Yes," Skipper answered in an urgent tone, "I missed the flight. I need to know of flights that will land me in Manhattan by tomorrow."

The woman worked at her computer for a moment. "Well, the snowstorms have been getting worse throughout the northern regions. Many flights have either been delayed or cancelled. The earliest I see is a four-twenty to Bloomington, Illinois, take a flight from there to Manhattan," she explained.

Skipper let out an anxious breath. "How long will that take?"

"About five to six hours, if you go straight through," she answered.

"And the cost?" Skipper asked with a wince.

"Just you?" the woman followed up. Skipper nodded weakly. "Probably looking at about six hundred dollars."

Skipper nodded slowly. "I guess there's no way I'm getting my money back for this, right?" he said, holding up his boarding pass.

The woman shook her head. "No refunds. Sorry."

Skipper nodded again. "Figured. Thanks," he said, turning and walking to a waiting area. He set his was-to-be carry-on bag on the ground and sat down a couple seats away from a man talking to someone on the phone. He seemed upset. Skipper pulled out his phone and turned it back on, and then called Kowalski.

"_Hello?"_ answered Kowalski's voice.

"Hey. It's me," Skipper replied.

"_Skipper? Shouldn't you be on board?"_ Kowalski asked.

Skipper closed his eyes. "Kowalski, this isn't easy to say, but I missed the flight. I let Private and Rico board, and I was just going to call Marlene for just a minute to let her know I was going to be there soon, and by the time I turned around, they were shutting the gates. I feel like the biggest idiot on earth. I'm so sorry, Kowalski. You sacrificed going home for me, and I blew it."

He heard Kowalski sigh. "_Don't worry, I'm not mad. To be honest, I feel too sorry for you to be upset. I know you were so happy to have a way back to Manhattan. Did you check to see if there were any more flights available soon?"_

"Yeah. She said my best bet to get to Manhattan as quick as possible is to take a plane to Bloomington, Illinois, and then to Manhattan. I don't have enough money for that."

"_How much money do you have? I thought you had quite a bit saved up,"_ Kowalski asked.

"I did," Skipper said, feeling the outline of something in his pocket, "but plane tickets are expensive. I'm down to about four hundred bucks."

There was a brief pause. "_Well, as much as it _pains _me to suggest this,"_ Kowalski said regretfully, "_Julien has more money than he knows what to do with. Why don't you ask him for some money to buy the plane tickets?"_

Skipper busted out laughing. "Oh, whew! That's funny, Kowalski. I guess that's one way to get me to laugh at a time like this."

"_Um, actually, I was serious. I'd offer some money myself, but um,"_ he started with a laugh, "_I kind of still owe Alice for that hole I blew in her wall from that experiment gone wrong, heh. She isn't letting it slide just because it's Christmas."_

Skipper sighed. "I don't know, Kowalski. I've never had to ask anyone for money before, let alone Julien. What makes you think he'll help me, anyway?"

"_While you two may have your differences, I assure you, he'd want you there for Christmas. And maybe you could tug his heart strings a little by telling him you want to be there with Marlene,"_ Kowalski suggested.

Skipper cringed at the thought of asking Julien for help—especially financial help.

"_Come on, Skipper. Swallow your pride this one time. For Marlene,"_ Kowalski urged.

Skipper tensed as he forced the words out. "Fine. I'll . . . call Julien," he finished through his teeth. "Goodbye, Kowalski."

"_Over and out,"_ Kowalski said before ending the call.

Skipper took a deep breath and searched through his contacts for "Man Child." But just before he sent the call to Julien, the man that was on the phone when he'd sat down scooted next to him.

"Excuse me," he said in a hillbilly-sounding accent. Not one you'd expect from a man in Oregon.

"Um," Skipper said, awkwardly looking around to ensure he was talking to him, "do I know you?"

"No," the man said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear, did you say you wanted a flight to Bloomington?"

Skipper's heart fluttered. "Y-es? Can you help me?"

The man laughed. "Gomer Cummings," he said, holding out his hand and shaking Skipper's. "I was supposed to fly to see my brother, Bo, for Christmas, and he said he was in DeKalb. Why, I thought he meant DeKalb, Illinois, but naw, he meant DeKalb, Texas. Sure makes a whole lot more sense since we're southern folk, you know? But now I got this ticket and ain't got no use for it. The lady at the desk says no refunds. If you want it, you're welcome to it. I'd hate to see my money go to waste," he said, holding out his boarding pass to him.

Skipper eyed the boarding pass as if it was a juicy tenderloin. Then he looked at Gomer. "Are you sure? You don't even know me."

"Well, you look like a man that wants to be home on Christmas, and I got no business in Illinois," he replied, pronouncing the 's' in 'Illinois.' "Take it."

Skipper took the pass in his hand. "Thank you, sir. I really don't know what to say." His eyes glossed over.

"Aw, it wasn't that big a thang, mister. No use leakin' your eyes 'bout it," Gomer said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Skipper shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You just saved me from doing something horrible! Thank you!" he said, throwing his arms around him.

Gomer awkwardly patted his back. "No—problem, mister. I, uh, really should go, now."

Skipper let go. "Sorry," he said with a sniffle. "Merry Christmas."

"You, too," Gomer said with a smile. He stood up and left him.

Skipper looked at the boarding pass in his hands and smiled. "I'm on my way, Marlene."

— § —

**Note: **The songs that were used in the "every station reminds me of my problems" scene were: _I'll Be Home for Christmas_ by various artists, _One Way or Another_ by Jesse McCartney, and _My Only Wish (This Year) _by Britney Spears (not a fan, just have a couple clean songs by her).

Yes, I just had to add Cheezy Dibbles to Rico's snack stash. It was the perfect opportunity!


	3. Frozen Fever and Wise Children

**Chapter 3: Frozen Fever and Wise Children**

Thrirty-five thousand feet up, Private walked through the cabins of the plane, looking for Skipper. When he couldn't find him, he went to Rico, who was sitting in an aisle seat eating a bag of airline peanuts.

"Rico, have you seen Skipper? I can't find him anywhere," he said.

Rico shook his head and threw back another handful of peanuts.

"You don't think he didn't board, do you?" Private asked, shifting his weight with worry.

Rico shrugged. "Sure he's here somewhere," he said passively. He offered him some peanuts.

Private shook his head. "No, I'm going to call him on the airline phone. If he's still in Pendleton, he'll answer."

He turned on his heel and found a phone on the wall of the plane. He dialed Skipper's number and waited as the dial tone droned in his ear.

"_Hello?"_ said Skipper's voice.

"Skipper, it's Private. Where are you? I can't find you on the plane, and I know your cell phone isn't working up here," Private said.

"_I'm sorry, Private, it's one thing after another. After my call with Marlene, they shut the gates on me. They wouldn't let me through. I'm taking a four-twenty to Illinois and I'll catch a flight to Manhattan from there,"_ Skipper explained. "_Just stick with going to Scottsbluff and keep going to Manhattan from there. All right? Don't worry about me."_

"Oh, well, I wish you luck. I would hate for you to not make it and on top of that, be all alone for Christmas," Private said uneasily.

"_Will you shh!"_ Skipper scolded. "_I've had enough bad luck without you jinxing me!"_

"Sorry, Skipper! Do you want me to knock on wood?" Private asked.

Skipper sighed. "_No, I'm sorry, Private. I'm just anxious. Every time I find a way home, it goes wrong."_

"It's okay, Skipper. I understand. Be careful, okay?" Private told him.

"_I will, Private. Enjoy the flight,"_ Skipper replied.

"I'll try. You as well. Bye, Skipper. I'll . . . see you in Manhattan?" Private said with a touch of hope.

There was a pause. "_Yeah. See you in Manhattan, Private,"_ Skipper's voice replied, although it didn't sound like he had much confidence in it. The line went dead and Private hung the phone back on the wall and returned to Rico to explain the situation.

"You really believe he's gonna make it?" Rico asked with his mouth full of peanuts.

Private thought for a moment. "I hope so."

— § —

"_Do you want to build a snowman?"_ Becky sang as she, Stacy, and Marlene packed snow together, all bundled up in warm clothing, thick coats, hats, gloves, and scarves.

"_Or ride our bikes around the halls?"_ Stacy joined in.

"_I think some company is overdue, I've started talking to the pictures on the walls!"_ Marlene chimed.

"Hang in there, Joan!" they all said together.

"_It gets a little lonely, all these empty rooms, just watching the hours tick by,"_ they sang together. They commenced a series of _tic-toc_s and then broke into laughter as their snowman reached completion. Stacy left to find some arms for it.

"Gosh, I love that movie," Marlene said with a smile as she started assorting rocks on the head of a snowman to make a smiley face. "Anybody have a spare carrot?" she asked with a grin.

"The one day I don't keep a stash in my back pocket," Becky joked.

Stacy came back with two long, thin sticks and stuck them in either side of the midsection.

"Yay! Now he can like warm hugs!" she said cheerfully.

Marlene smiled. "I have a couple carrots in my fridge. I'll be right back," she said, walking toward the apartment building.

When she got to her room, she went into the kitchen and extracted a carrot from her fridge. She shut the door and froze when she saw the picture of her and Skipper stuck on the refrigerator door by a magnet. It was a photo from her twenty-ninth birthday. Skipper had taken her out on the terrace and kissed her, and someone had followed them and snapped a picture. She and Skipper were a bit embarrassed when they saw it, but Marlene couldn't find it in her heart to delete it. She smiled at the memory, but it quickly faded. Even though Skipper had told her he was on his way this very minute, she couldn't help but feel that something had gone wrong, or was going to go wrong. She pushed the thought from her mind.

Back outside, Becky and Stacy had started a snowball fight with a few other residents from the apartment building Marlene recognized as Mason, Phil, and Roger. Marlene stuck the carrot in the center of the snowman's face but quickly had to take cover behind it when Stacy started attacking her with the fluffy, white ice.

"Hey!" she cried. She scooped up two snowballs and launched them from behind the snowman. One caught Stacy in the shoulder and the other just barely missed Phil. Becky started chasing her around the snowman, throwing snowballs as she went.

"I'm gonna turn you into a snow-_woman_!" Becky threatened with a laugh.

Marlene threw a snowball at her. "Well, I'm turning you into a snow _angel_ because I kill this game!" she shot back, stumbling over her feet.

Becky laughed and was about to launch another snowball at Marlene when she noticed Mason aiming a snowball at her and she moved out of the way. The snowball flew past her and hit the snowman in the head, knocking off the nose that Marlene had just given it. Marlene, Becky, and Stacy exchanged a glance.

"Baby unicorn killer!" Stacy cried, charging toward him with a snowball in each hand.

"I don't even know what that me-e-_eans_!" Mason cried as he took off running with the ladies chasing after him, throwing snowballs as they went.

— § —

Skipper checked the time on his phone again. It was nearly twenty till four o'clock. They should be calling for the plane to board any minute. He looked at the flight board, which still indicated that it'd be on time. He was grateful for the Dibbles that were in his pocket and he anxiously munched on them.

"_Now boarding the four-twenty to Bloomington, Illinois at Gate 4," _said a voice over the intercom. Skipper didn't even let her finish before gathering his things and making his way to the gate.

He gave his pass (which he'd accidentally gotten Cheezy Dibble dust on) to a woman at the gate and boarded the plane. A flight attendant helped him find his seat, which was next to a window. He stuffed his bag in the luggage compartment above it and sat down, looking out at the runway as a plane took off.

"Hi!" said a voice next to him, making him flinch. He turned his head to see a little girl plop down in the seat next to him.

"Hey," Skipper replied uncomfortably.

"I'm Sarah. What's your name?" the little girl asked, looking at him with brown eyes, much like Marlene's.

"They call me Skipper," Skipper answered. The more he tried to relax, the harder the seat seemed to become.

Sarah giggled. "Why do they call you that? Are you in the navy?" she asked.

Skipper smiled. "No, it's just what they call me. Why so inquisitive?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow humorously.

"Mommy says if we never ask questions, we'll never learn anything new," Sarah answered.

Skipper considered. "Touché," he replied. "Your mother is wise. Where is your mother?" he asked, suddenly realizing she was alone.

"We had to book our flight last minute. She was unable to find us a seat together. She's in the next cabin," Sarah explained.

"Ah, I see," Skipper replied.

"So, why are you going to Illinois? Mommy says I have an uncle there. I haven't met him yet 'cause he travels a lot," Sarah told him.

"I couldn't find a flight straight to Manhattan, so I have to fly to Illinois first and book a flight from there," Skipper explained.

"Why are you going to Manhattan?" Sarah asked.

Skipper chuckled. She was going to know his life story by the time this flight ended. "It's where I live. I flew to Seattle on business, but all the flights back were cancelled due to weather. So I had to come down here to book a flight. My girlfriend's waiting for me to come home for Christmas," he told her. Strangely, it kind of felt good to talk about it, get things off his chest. Even if it was with a complete stranger.

"Ooh, is she pretty?" Sarah asked, biting her lip.

Skipper laughed. "Yes, she's very pretty. She's beautiful," he answered, the thought bringing an image of her smiling as he walked through the front door in his mind.

Just then, a woman appeared in the aisle next to their set of seats.

"There you are," she said to the girl. "Are you all right? I'm sorry I couldn't get you a seat with me."

"I'm fine, Mommy. I'm talking to Skipper," she said, turning to him. "This is my Mommy."

"Hey, nice to meet you," Skipper replied to the woman.

She eyed him uneasily, probably uncomfortable with her taking up a conversation with a stranger. Skipper couldn't blame her for feeling that way. It was only motherly instinct.

"Well, have respect and say _Mr._ Skipper," she told her daughter. "Remember our talk about respecting adults."

"Yes, Mommy," Sarah replied softly.

She sighed. "All right. When we're in the air, if you want to come sit with me, you can, okay?"

"Okay," Sarah said sweetly as the mother walked back down the aisle. A moment later an elderly woman appeared with a flight attendant, who put her carry-on where Skipper's was. The woman sat down on the other side of the little girl and rested her head back on the seat. She seemed as if she might try to take a quick nap before takeoff, so neither the little girl nor Skipper bothered her.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Sarah asked.

"I'm a detective," Skipper answered.

"Ooh! Like on TV?" She suddenly gasped deeply and lowered her voice. "Have you ever shot anybody?"

Skipper chuckled again. "Not quite like on TV, and yes, I have had to use my weapon on criminals before," he answered, wanting to accentuate the idea that he only used his weapon on those who committed terrible crimes. "And what do _you_ do for a living," he joked.

"I'm nine!" she answered with a giggle. She crossed her arms. "What does your _girlfriend _think about it?" she said teasingly.

Skipper smiled and thought for a moment. "She thinks that what I do is good—solving crimes to give peace to those who may have gotten hurt because of it. Bringing justice to wrongdoers."

She sighed as if she were watching a romantic movie and Skipper rolled his eyes, the heat rushing into his cheeks.

"How did you meet her?" she asked.

Skipper looked at the wing of the plane out the window, replaying the scene in his mind. "She moved in next door to our apartment. One day my unit and I were heading out for work and we bumped into her. We introduced ourselves and sort of moved on. A few days later, I noticed she was having trouble with her window that led out onto the fire escape. I offered to help and we just got to talking. It seemed our personalities were polar opposites, but at the same time, we shared a lot of the same views. We became good friends for a while, and it just grew from there."

"Aw, that's sweet," Sarah said with a grin. "What's her name?"

"Marlene."

"Ooh, that's a pretty name. I know a Marlene in my second-grade class. I don't like her, though," she said with a pout.

"Oh, well, why is that?" Skipper inquired.

"She likes to make fun of me. Like telling me I don't fit in," Sarah explained.

Skipper thought for a moment. "Tell you what, next time she tries to make fun of you, say that her words would really hurt you if you valued her opinion," he told her with a smile.

Sarah grinned. "Ooh, that's good. So, what's your Marlene like?" she asked.

Skipper smiled. "She's, uh, very stubborn," he said with a laugh, "and sometimes frustrating. She and I can barely go a week without disagreeing on something. But she's sweet. She cares about other people. She's a logical-type thinker. She'll think through a situation rationally before making haste decisions. She's very level-headed and knows where she's going in life. She's strong and independent but acknowledges when she needs help. And she's really smart. She works at a library—she loves reading. I love her outlook on life, even if it's hard for me to understand sometimes."

"Are you gonna marry her?" Sarah asked with a touch of hope as if she'd been waiting for that to happen for a long time.

Skipper thought for a moment. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked. Sarah nodded. Skipper reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a ring that twinkled in the fluorescent light. "I'm way ahead of you," he said with a grin.

Sarah gasped. "Ooh, are you going to do it on Christmas?" she asked.

Skipper turned the box in his hands, the ring twinkling as he did so. "I want to, if I can work up the nerve. I've faced life-threatening situations, and yet, I've never been more scared in my life. That's why I haven't told anyone. I don't want anyone getting their hopes up just for me to chicken out." A thought dawned on him and he looked at Sarah. "Why am I telling you this? You're too young for this stuff," he said, closing the case and putting it back in his pocket.

Sarah sighed irritably. "Too young for this, too young for that," she said indignantly. "I'll have you know I think I know how you feel."

Skipper refrained from laughing. "And how could you know how I feel?" he asked.

Sarah turned and sat forward in her seat and buckled her seatbelt. "Well, Mommy and I go to the fair every year. There's this one ride that always scared me. Mommy told me there wasn't anything to be afraid of, but I didn't believe her. She told me I could go when I was ready. Last year, I decided to give it a try. When it was over, I realized I never really had anything to be afraid of. All that time, I was scared of nothing."

"Well, a ride at the fair and a marriage proposal are two very different things," Skipper pointed out.

"Not really, if you think about it. Mommy tells me that any fear is the fear of the unknown. Like a fear of heights is the fear of not knowing if you'll fall or not. Or a fear of spiders is the fear of it biting you. You don't know if it will. Mommy says we shouldn't fear the unknown, because if we fear the unknown, that's like being afraid of the future. We'll never know what comes next, and we can't keep being afraid of that. We just have to face it head on and hope for the best," Sarah explained. She looked at him. "Maybe that's what you should do. Do you love her?"

"Of course," Skipper answered.

"Does she love you?" Sarah asked.

Skipper nodded slowly. "Yeah," he answered.

Sarah shrugged. "Then what are you afraid of?"

Skipper stared at the back of the seat in front of him as he thought about what Sarah said. A few minutes later, a voice came over the intercom.

"_Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We'll be taking off shortly, so please securely fasten your seatbelts and ensure your seat is in its upright position. We hope you enjoy your flight and thank you for choosing Oregon Regional Airlines."_

Skipper fastened his seatbelt and relaxed as he waited for takeoff.

— § —

"_I'm sorry. The number you're trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone." Beep._

"Hey, Skipper, it's me. I was just hoping to catch you while you were in Scottsbluff, but I guess you still have your phone off. Just checking in to make sure nothing else came up. Love you. Bye," Marlene said, ending the call. She sighed.

"No answer?" Becky guessed, coming into the kitchen where she was.

"No," Marlene said in disappointment. "I hope nothing came up."

"I'm sure he's fine," Becky said, pouring hot water from the coffee maker into a coffee cup. "Want some hot chocolate?" she offered with a smile.

"Sure," Marlene accepted with a sigh. Becky grabbed another coffee cup and filled it. "Becky?"

"Yeah, Marlene?" Becky replied.

"Thanks for keeping my mind off of things. I've been really worried Skipper won't make it home. It was sweet of you and Stacy to stay with me while I'm going out of my mind," Marlene said with a laugh.

Becky smiled. "Don't worry about it, cousin. We couldn't let you be all alone during the holiday season," she said, pouring a packet of hot chocolate mix into each cup and adding a spoon. She slid one cup to Marlene.

Marlene started stirring her hot chocolate with the steam rising to her face.

"So, how long have you two been dating, now?" Becky asked.

"Almost three years," Marlene answered.

"Wow, ya'll haven't talked about getting married?" Becky asked, searching her cabinets for marshmallows.

Marlene turned to her with wide eyes. "What?" she asked with a nervous laugh. "Marriage? I-I don't know. I don't even think he's thought about it."

"What about you, Marlene? Have you thought about it?" Becky asked with a teasing smile.

Marlene shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know . . . I guess it's crossed my mind a couple of times. I would never bring the topic of marriage up to him, though."

"Why not?" Becky asked in surprise. "I mean, I know he's all commando and everything, but the whole point of dating is to find someone to spend your life with. If he wasn't planning on marrying you, I doubt your relationship would've lasted this long."

Marlene considered. "I guess that's true. I guess I'm just afraid."

"Of what?" Becky asked as if there couldn't possibly be a logical answer. She finally found a bag of marshmallows and tossed it on the counter, waiting for Marlene's reply.

Marlene pulled the marshmallow bag open and plopped one in her drink. "I guess I'm just afraid that if I bring it up, he'll get scared of the idea of committing. I don't know if he's ready for that," she said, staring at her drink.

Becky rolled her eyes. "Marlene, let me ask you something. Do you love him?" she asked.

"I have no doubt in my mind," Marlene answered without hesitation.

"Does he love you?" Becky followed up.

Marlene stirred the spoon in her cup for a moment. "Yeah. I think so," she answered.

Becky made a buzzer sound with her voice. "Wrong answer. The answer is yes, he definitely loves you. I can tell by the way I've seen him look at you, sometimes without you even knowing it. You should have nothing to be afraid of. If it's been three weeks, then I could see him getting a little scared. But three years? I'm not saying get married tomorrow, I'm just saying you should have no problem talking about it at this point."

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed one marshmallow for her hot chocolate and another to pop in her mouth as she left her to think. Marlene watched the marshmallow float around in her hot chocolate. Becky may have had a point, but that didn't make the thought any less frightening.

— § —

Private waited as Rico passed through the metal detector in Scottsbluff, Nebraska. The security personnel here were being a little more thorough than the past airports. They were checking all of the snacks in his bag to ensure none of them were drugs.

"You _had _to bring every snack you could think of," Private said irritably.

Rico spread his hands. "What?"

Finally, they finished and gave Rico his duffel.

"Here you go," the security guard said, giving him a strange look. "By the way, some fudge leaked onto your pretzels," he added before returning to his post.

Rico made a momentary look of panic but then thought for a moment. Private watched as he started to grin and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mikey," he said, picking up his bag and walking toward their next gate.

"Who's Mikey?" Rico asked, following him.

Private rolled his eyes again. "Forget about it."

— § —

**Note: **I didn't intend to incorporate _Frozen_ into this story when I started it, but when the opportunity arose, I couldn't help it. For anyone who hasn't seen it, _Do You Want to Build A Snowman?_ is by Anna when she tries to get her sister, Elsa, who is afraid of her powers, to come out of her room. The joke about "Baby unicorn killer!" is a reference to the snowman, Olaf, who claimed when Anna gave him a carrot nose (which ended up going too far in his head at first and just barely showed through his face), "It's like a little baby unicorn!"

Mikey is just a character from an old commercial who supposedly would eat anything.


	4. Thieves Hypothermia and a Date with Fate

**Chapter 4: Thieves, Hypothermia, and a Date with Fate**

_"Attention, passengers. This is your captain speaking. We'll be landing shortly, so please have a seat, fasten your seatbelts, and return your seats to their original upright position,"_ a voice announced over the intercom.

Skipper buckled his seatbelt and looked outside at the dark clouds as they passed under the wing of the plane.

"Hey, Mr. Skipper," Sarah said as she returned to her seat. She'd left about halfway through the flight to sit with her mother. She plopped in her seat.

"Hey, kiddo," Skipper replied. "Enjoy the flight?"

"Yeah, my Mommy and I brought playing cards and we played Crazy 8s. I won most of the games," she said with a giggle.

"That so?" Skipper said with a smile as she fastened her seatbelt. "Bet you wouldn't have that kind of luck if you played me," he challenged.

"Nah-uh!" Sarah protested, crossing her arms. "I'm a pro at Crazy 8s," she bragged with a smile.

"Okay, then. I'll bet we have time for one game," Skipper said.

"You're on," Sarah said, pulling the deck from her coat pocket.

— § —

"And I win!" Sarah said, putting her last card on the discard pile.

"Ah, you got me," Skipper said with a smile, placing his remaining cards on the pile. Sarah took the cards and put them back in her pocket.

"Told you I'm a pro," she said smugly.

"That you did," Skipper acknowledged.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be beginning our descent, please ensure your seatbelts are securely fastened and that your seats are in their upright position and prepare for landing. We hope you enjoyed your flight, and thanks again for choosing Oregon Regional Airlines,"_ the captain announced over the intercom.

Skipper fiddled with his fingers in his lap, praying that nothing would go wrong while he was in Illinois. There was some turbulence and he gripped his knees without realizing it.

"Do you not like flying?" Sarah asked, observing his tension.

Skipper laughed nervously at himself. "No, I don't mind it, usually. I've just been having some bad luck lately, so I'm a little anxious."

Sarah laughed. "Mommy doesn't believe in bad luck. She says that anything that happens is because it's supposed to happen. That Fate knows what it's doing."

Skipper scoffed. "Well, it seems like Fate is trying its darndest to ruin my and my girlfriend's Christmas to me."

"I don't know about that," Sarah replied. "Maybe Fate doesn't want to _ruin_ your Christmas, but just make it something you didn't expect."

Skipper thought about that for a moment. Then he looked at her. "You're a pretty smart kid, you know that?"

Sarah shrugged indifferently. "I know," she said with a grin. Skipper smiled back as the plane started its final descent to the runway.

The plane landed and there was another announcement giving the passengers permission to grab their carry-ons and deboard. Sarah got up and turned to Skipper.

"Hope you have a good Christmas, Mr. Skipper," she said.

"You, too. And, uh, thanks," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"No problem," she said before walking down the aisle to meet her mother.

Skipper stood and saw that the elderly woman was having a hard time getting to her bag overhead.

"Allow me, ma'am," he said, reaching up and grabbing it for her.

"Thank you, dear," the woman said with a smile, taking the bag from him.

"You're welcome," Skipper replied, grabbing his own bag. "Have a Merry Christmas."

The woman smiled uneasily. "I'll try. You, too, son."

Skipper cocked an eyebrow. "Try?" he inquired.

"Oh, don't worry about me," the woman said as they started walking toward the plane's exit. "I'm just trying to find my daughter."

"Well, ma'am, I'm a detective with connections. I might be able to help," Skipper offered.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to keep from getting home on Christmas," the woman said.

Skipper hesitated. He could go home and let this woman search for a needle in a haystack on her own, or he could help bring a family together for Christmas and maybe still make it. He knew he couldn't do the former. "Really, ma'am, I'll make it home just fine. I'd be happy to help," he told her as they began to descend the airstairs.

"Well," the woman started, "I haven't seen her in a few years. She moved to Chicago and I haven't heard from her since," she said with a sigh. "I'm an old woman. I don't have many years left. I want to see my daughter for Christmas."

Skipper held his hand out for her as she descended the last few stairs and she took it. Her hand was cold. He saw her sad, lonely face and knew there'd be no way he could back out now. They started walking toward the terminal.

"Don't worry, we'll find her together," Skipper promised. "I'm Skipper, Misses . . .?"

"Just call me Cinthy," she said.

The two of them walked to baggage claim and waited for their luggage. Skipper grabbed his and offered to carry hers, but she declined.

"I may be old," she said, "but I can manage."

They continued through security and came upon the waiting area by the ticket desks.

"Would you mind waiting just a minute while I check on something?" Skipper asked.

"Of course, dear. I'll be right here," Cinthy said, sitting down with her bags. "I'll watch your luggage if you like."

"Thanks," Skipper said, setting his bags down next to hers. He turned and walked up to the flight board and started looking it over, searching for flights to Manhattan. The next one was scheduled to leave at one-fifteen in the morning, the next was at five-thirty, nine-forty, one-fifty in the afternoon, six-ten, and ten-thirty. He put the times in his phone. Then he turned around to return to Cinthy and froze. She wasn't where he'd left her, and his bags were sitting in the chairs. He looked around to see if he could spot her and rummaged through his bags.

"That conniving con-artist," he growled through his teeth. That little witch with a capital B stole the extra cash and his laptop he had in his carry-on. Skipper angrily zipped the bag up and threw it over his shoulder. "'Looking for my daughter,' she said. All just a lie to steal my valuables." That's when it hit him. He patted his pocket where he'd kept Marlene's engagement ring to find it empty. "Oh, _hell_ no," he said, grabbing his other suitcase and sprinting for the door.

He came out into the night air and frantically looked around. Then he spotted her several yards down the sidewalk getting into a taxi.

"Hey!" he called, running for her. She looked at him in surprise and climbed in, shutting the door behind her. The taxi started to pull away before Skipper could get to it. "No!" he screamed in defeat. He saw another taxi and opened the back door. "Drive!" he ordered the driver.

"Where to?" he asked.

"After that cab, up there!" Skipper said, pointing toward the cab almost reaching the highway. "I'll double the fare if you don't lose it!"

"Yes, sir," the driver replied, throwing the car in gear. Ensuring no one was in the way, he pulled the car forward with a jerk and swerved around other cars that angrily honked their horns. He got to the cab just as it pulled into the highway and pulled out behind it, cutting off another driver in the process which earned them a rather derogatory sign in the rearview mirror.

"Keep following it," Skipper said.

"You got it," the driver replied.

Skipper simmered in the back seat as he stared down the tail lights of the cab. He couldn't believe he actually fell for her story. As he leveled his heart rate, he started piecing together how she came up with her plan. She was sitting right next to him and that little girl, Sarah. He told her he was a detective and showed her Marlene's engagement ring. She must've been paying more attention than he'd thought. She assumed that he might offer to help her since he was a detective, and that's exactly what she did to get close enough to pick his pocket. This was unbelievable and embarrassing. He was the law and he'd just been bamboozled and robbed by a lady old enough to be his mother.

They drove for nearly ten minutes when the cab pulled into Quality Inn &amp; Suites and parked by the curb in front of the door.

"Park a few spaces back," Skipper said. He watched from a distance and waited for her to come out. When she didn't, he slid to the door. "Wait here, keep the meter running."

He pulled himself out of the cab and walked to the idle cab he'd followed there, but just as he reached it, some other woman stepped out with a child. He'd followed the wrong cab. He kicked the snow that was on the sidewalk. She could be anywhere now. He plopped back in the cab and rested his head back in the seat, running his fingers through his thick black hair. He laughed incredulously.

"Take me back to the airport," he sighed. He was tired, hungry, and sick of everything getting screwed up.

"Yes, sir," the driver said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Skipper looked at the meter. It was reaching four dollars, which meant he owed the cabbie eight to follow through with his promise to double the fare. He reached for his wallet in his back pocket to find it empty. He shoved his tongue in his cheek. She'd taken his wallet, too. He was in a city with no cash, no credit cards, and, therefore, no way of paying this taxi driver or buying an airplane ticket.

"Actually, uh, you probably should pull over," Skipper said regretfully. He didn't want to tell him that he couldn't pay him and owe him more than he already did. The driver pulled next to the curb. "Look, I was just robbed at the airport. Sh—uh, _he_ took my wallet and extra cash," he explained. "I thought I'd get it back by following that cab, but it was the wrong one. I—I don't have any money."

Within the next thirty seconds, Skipper was trudging down the sidewalk with his bags in the night, shivering from the cold. He wasn't sure which way the airport was, but he just followed the direction he saw planes taking off and coming in for a landing. It didn't take long for him to get to the point where it felt as if his ears might fall off and he decided to take a break in a diner he spotted across the street. He took a seat at the bar and set his bags under him. The sign on the door indicated that it was closing in half an hour, so there were only a few other people seated on either side of the room.

"Hey, can I get you anything?" a waitress asked from the other side of the counter. She was wearing a red apron and a Santa hat over her brown, curly hair, the white cotton ball at the end hanging next to her round, friendly face.

"What's free?" Skipper asked without meeting her eye. He hated to seem like he was a man who couldn't even afford a decent cup of coffee.

"Water," the waitress said regretfully.

Skipper set his jaw and nodded. "I'll take that, I guess," he said quietly.

The waitress left for a moment and came back with a glass of ice water and set it in front of him on a napkin. Skipper tried not to look too nauseated. Drinking a cold water when he was already turning into a popsicle wasn't too appealing, but his mouth was already dry from having not drunk anything since that morning. He took the glass in his numb fingers and had to take it with his other hand when he realized it was shivering. Slowly, he brought it to his lips and forced a large gulp down his throat, but quickly had to set it back down when it just made him feel more nauseated.

"Are you sure you don't want a coffee?" the waitress asked as another shiver went down his spine.

Skipper shook his head. "No. Someone stole my wallet. I don't have any money, and I'm from out of town."

The waitress exhaled and looked around. Then she went to the coffee maker and made a cup of coffee. "I'm not supposed to do this," she whispered, "but, hey, it's Christmas. And it looks like you could really use some warming up," she said with a smile, sliding the cup to him.

Skipper looked from the cup to the waitress. "Are you sure? I don't want to get you fired," he whispered.

She shook her head. "Please, it's Christmas. My boss is too busy to ever find out about one or two cups of coffee," she assured with a wink.

Skipper took the cup in his hands and instantly felt warmth envelop his fingers and slowly work its way to his arms. He didn't even care that it didn't have sugar as he sipped on it and felt the warmth slide down his throat. He shivered again, but with the pleasure of how good the heat felt as he started getting the feeling back in his face.

"Thank you," he said with a sniff—partly from the cold and partly because everything that happened that day was really starting to sink in. There was no way he was getting home by Christmas. He'd failed Marlene, his team, and himself.

The waitress leaned on the counter by her elbows in front of him. "Want to talk about it?" she asked, obviously realizing he'd had a rough day.

Skipper looked at her, then back at his coffee. "Well," he started with a sigh. He wasn't one to talk about his problems, especially with strangers, but then again, he did tell a nine-year-old about his girlfriend. "I had to leave Manhattan last minute for a meeting in Seattle, and I promised my girlfriend I'd be home by Christmas. But then all the flights leaving Seattle were cancelled due to weather conditions. So, I had to rent a car and drag my unit of three to Pendleton, Oregon to catch a flight to Nebraska, where I was going to catch a flight to Manhattan. Which, by the way, meant one of my unit had to sacrifice a flight home to drive the rental back to Seattle and wait for a flight there. I missed the flight to Nebraska, and I took a flight here, where I was robbed of all my money, and"—he paused and looked at the counter—"my girlfriend's engagement ring. I was planning on proposing to her on Christmas."

"Wow," the waitress said with a surprised laugh, "sounds like the world's against you."

"That's pretty much how I feel," Skipper replied before drinking the rest of the coffee in one go. He pressed the cup to his cheek, trying to salvage every bit of warmth it had. "And now, not only can I not propose to her, I can't buy a plane ticket because all my credit cards were in my wallet."

"Well," the waitress replied, "if I had any money, I'd give it to you. But if I had that kind of money, I wouldn't be working here. More coffee?" she whispered.

"Please," Skipper said, giving her the cup. "And if you have any sugar cubes, that'd be great, too."

The waitress took the cup and filled it with coffee and grabbed a bowl of sugar cubes and gave them to Skipper.

"So, what are you gonna do?" she asked.

Skipper held the cup under his chin so the steam would warm his face. "I guess I'll call Kowalski—the one that had to stay in Seattle—and ask him to take a pitstop here to pick me up. I don't see much other alternative."

The waitress thought for a moment. "Well, I don't know how desperate you are, but I might have a solution for you."

Skipper plopped two sugar cubes into his coffee. "With how my day's turned out, I'm up for nearly anything."

The waitress made a doubtful face. "I guess I should ask this first since you seem indulged in that warm coffee: How tolerant are you to cold?"

The waitress—who had finally introduced herself as Judy Fate—had kindly offered him a ride to Pepsi Ice Center just a few minutes away since the diner was closing up. Skipper used the opportunity to call the airport to report the thief, but their flight manifest for his flight had no record of any "Cinthy" or anything close to it. _Of course,_ Skipper thought, _Why would she use her real name if she was planning on hustling me? _He also cancelled his credit cards. When they got there, they entered Skipper in the competition Judy had told him about and joined the crowd, where he put on his ice skates.

"I can't believe I'm being reduced to this," he muttered.

"Well, to be honest, I didn't think you'd agree to it. I think it's sweet that you're doing this to get home to your girlfriend," Judy replied.

Skipper sighed as he moved his foot around on his ankle to see how the skate felt. "Thank you for helping me," he said, putting his foot down. "I'm sure you'd probably rather be home with your family right now."

Judy laughed. "Actually, this is a more appealing alternative, and not just because of all the eye candy," she said, eyeing some attractive men a few yards away with a grin. She turned back to Skipper. "My family together in one room? Never ends well. Someone always starts a fight. Even on Christmas. I'm always the one who just goes outside and waits it out in the snow," she explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Skipper replied.

"Don't worry about it," Judy said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "The competition's about to start, I guess you should, ahem . . . get ready," she said awkwardly.

"Right," Skipper said, standing up and balancing himself on the ice skates. He self-consciously looked around and reminded himself he was doing this to get home. In accordance with the rules, he shucked off his jacket and pulled off his shirt. "Guess I'll see you when it's over."

"Good luck," she said, looking at the ground with a grin.

"Way to be subtle," Skipper said with a roll of his eyes and a smile. He turned and waddled toward the rink, where all the other contestants were waiting, which consisted of shirtless men and women in spaghetti-strapped shirts.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer said into a microphone that projected his voice through a small speaker. "I will briefly go over the rules and then we will begin the contest. Everyone will skate in the rink until they can't stand the cold any longer. For men, you must be shirtless, and for women, tank tops or spaghetti-straps only," he explained, failing to hide his disappointment. "There will be no pushing, clipping, punching, kicking, or otherwise any harm done to another, even by accident. If you do, it will result in automatic disqualification. If you fall and injure yourself, we will not be held responsible, and you will be disqualified. Someone will come out to assist you away from the rink to wait for an ambulance or otherwise treat the injury. The last one skating wins one thousand dollars! Any questions?"

Nobody said anything.

"Great! Then time begins when the last man enters the rink!" the announcer said.

The contestants began filing into the rink and skating out across the ice. Skipper counted around twenty competitors. He skated out into the rink as others began showing off their skating maneuvers, such as spinning, jumping, and skating backwards. After a few minutes of skating, he started rubbing his hands together and blowing into his cupped fingers. A woman in a black tank skated up next to him.

"Hey," she said. "I'm Sherry. Mind if I skate with you?"

"I guess," Skipper replied. "Name's Skipper. Might I ask why?"

"I was looking for someone to talk to get my mind off the cold, someone that wasn't too busy showing off," Sherry said, looking at the people figure skating in the center of the rink.

"Well, I could certainly use something to keep my mind off the cold. What do you want to talk about?" Skipper asked.

"What are you gonna do with the money if you win?" she asked.

"Well, I'm from out of town and someone pickpocketed my wallet, so I have no money for a plane ticket home. Someone I met here referred this to me and I figured I had nothing better to do with my time anyway," Skipper explained. "What about you?" he asked.

"My car needs a new part. I don't have that great of a job and a child to feed, so I was hoping I could use the prize money to buy it," Sherry answered. "Where you from?"

"Manhattan," Skipper answered.

"Wow, long way. What do you do?" she asked.

"I'm a detective," Skipper answered.

She seemed impressed. "Wow, detective. So, like _N.C.I.S._ or something?"

Skipper laughed. "Why does everyone ask that? My life is not a TNT drama," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"CBS, actually," Sherry corrected with a grin.

Skipper shook his head. "Whatever," he replied.

"So what brought you to Illinois?" Sherry asked.

"Long story," Skipper replied, feeling a bit tired of explaining it to everyone.

Sherry looked back to the center of the rink. Only about a third of the contestants had given up. "Looks like we've got time," she said.

Skipper sighed and explained his situation. Sherry whistled.

"Wow, looks like luck is not on your side," she said.

"That's one way of putting it," Skipper replied irritably.

"Well, maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe things will work out," Sherry encouraged.

"I don't see how it'll work out unless I win this money for a plane ticket," Skipper said, rubbing the goosebumps off his arms. He crossed them, tucking his fingers in his underarms.

Sherry tucked her hands in her jeans pockets. "Well, tell me about your girlfriend. You said you were hoping to marry her?" she inquired, trying to change the subject.

Skipper told her about Marlene, how they met, what made him decide to ask her out, and finally his decision to buy an engagement ring.

"I had it engraved on the inside and everything," Skipper told her.

"Aw, that's so sweet. Did you call the airport? If they can give you her full name, maybe you can get an address or something," Sherry asked.

"Yeah, but she gave me an alias. They had no record of her on that flight," Skipper answered. "She's probably pawned it off by now, anyway. She could sure as hell get a pretty penny for it."

"I'm sorry," Sherry said. "Maybe you can buy another one and propose on New Year's," she suggested.

Skipper shook his head. "I don't have enough money to buy another right now. I'll probably have to wait until next Christmas," he said disappointedly.

Skipper shuddered from the cold. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.

"Hey, look, we're in the final eight," Sherry said.

Skipper looked around at the other six remaining competitors—five men and one woman. Then he looked at the window where the crowd of spectators was watching, cheering the finalists on. He saw Judy giving him a two thumbs up and a grin. He pushed on.

"Tell you what," Sherry said, "if it comes down to us, I'll give in and let you win the money."

Skipper looked at her. "What about your car?" he asked.

Sherry sighed. "I'm sure it'll last a little longer. If push comes to shove, I'll just borrow a little from the bank," she said. "I would hate for you and your girlfriend to be apart on Christmas. I know if getting to my son meant winning this money, I would want someone to do the same for me."

Skipper smiled gratefully. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Ah, don't mention it," Sherry said, looking at the ice beneath her.

"So what's your son like?" Skipper inquired.

"Oh, he's a very bright boy," Sherry said with a smile. "He's in eighth grade now, making all A's. Well, with a B in algebra," she said with a laugh. "He wants to be a vet when he grows up."

"Really? Why's that? He does know where the thermometer goes, right?" Skipper asked with a lopsided grin.

Sherry laughed. "Yes, he knows. He's always loved animals. He had a dog recently, but it passed away from old age. He was heartbroken. He'd had him since he was a puppy. I can't afford to take in another pet right now, and it's killing me," she said with a mournful look in her eye.

Skipper looked down. He remembered when he was young and wanted a dog, but his mother was highly allergic. Then he moved into his apartment, which doesn't allow dogs.

"Oh, but don't feel guilty about the prize money, please," Sherry said, reading his thoughts. "It's not just the getting the dog. I'd have to feed it, and bathe it. A thousand dollars wouldn't last me long."

Skipper considered. "I guess." He watched as another competitor left the rink, shivering and rubbing his arms. "So, got hypothermia yet?" he asked with a grin.

Sherry laughed. "I know, right? This contest seems a bit dangerous to me, but hey, when you need money," she said with a shrug.

"Yeah, people come up with the craziest things nowadays," Skipper replied.

"You think if we move faster we'll generate heat?" Sherry suggested doubtfully.

"No, because then we'll sweat and be wet and cold," Skipper pointed out.

Sherry laughed again. "Of course, why didn't I think of that?" She watched as two more left the rink and just as she turned to count who was left, the last contestant skated up to them, skating backwards.

"Hello, madam, gentleman," he said, looking from Sherry to Skipper. He had a thick Russian accent. "Getting rather cold in here, isn't it?" he taunted with a grin.

"You kiddin' me?" Skipper responded, dropping his arms to his sides. "I love the cold," he lied through his teeth—literally, because his jaw was beginning to lock shut from the cold.

The man laughed. "I am thinking your lips are turning blue, friend," he said, still grinning.

"Ooh, look who knows his colors," Skipper replied. He wasn't about to be tormented by some Rusky.

"Well, I'm about to turn into a popsicle, so I'm gonna go," Sherry said, skating off toward the exit, not wanting to be in the middle of it.

"Just you and me, friend," the Rusky said, skating a circle around him. "You may as well give up now. Ice is my element. I consider forty degrees a nice spring morning."

Skipper narrowed his eyes. "I'm not giving up that easily," he told him.

The Rusky laughed. "Then things will get interesting, hm? If you're so bold to challenge me, why don't you join me in the center of the rink where it's coldest," he said, skating toward the center of the rink with outstretched arms, still facing him, "and we'll heat things up—or should I say cool them down?"

Skipper hesitated. He was already coming close to his breaking point. But he wasn't about to be called out a chicken by this flashy Russian babushka. He skated to the center of the rink and he laughed gruffly.

"So he has pride," he said. "I find that honorable in men."

"Why thank you," Skipper replied, refusing to let this guy get to him.

"_Looks like we're down to our last two competitors,"_ he heard the announcer say in the near distance. He and the Rusky looked over as the crowd cheered and banged on the plastic glass that separated the rink from the lobby. Skipper swore he saw some people placing bets.

The Rusky skated toward him and literally started skating circles around him. "As we speak, your internal temperature is dropping. Your nose and fingers are no doubt numb with cold. How much longer can you stand it?" he taunted.

Skipper started to realize there was no way he was going to outwait the cold with a Russian. There was, however, another way he could be disqualified. He just had to probe him to do it himself.

"You like skating, Rusky?" he asked.

He grinned and stopped circling him, sliding a few feet away. "I come here with my wife very often," he answered.

"Bet you can't skate better than my girlfriend. She's the best figure skater in New York," he lied with a challenging grin.

The Rusky laughed. "Well, I am the best skater in all of Russia," he said conceitedly.

"Really? What a high proclamation. Why don't you prove it?" he challenged.

The Rusky grinned. "Feast your eyes on this," he said, pushing forward. A second later, he launched himself into the air by his left foot, turned twice, and landed on his right foot, skating backwards.

Skipper laughed. "My girlfriend learned that one when she was three," he taunted. The Rusky narrowed his eyes.

"Then why don't you tell me a move your girlfriend does the best, and I show you it better," he said.

Skipper grinned. Now it was his terms. "Well," he said, "one move that always wins them over is this: She can spin into a jump and land on one foot and immediately somersault into a corkscrew spin," he told him, trying to hide that he pulled it off the top of his head.

The Rusky laughed. "Easy," he said. He skated around in a large circle to gain momentum and started to spin. He jumped into the air, landed on one foot, and somersaulted. But when he tried to land, his skate slipped out from under him and he hit the ice, crying out in pain. Skipper smiled as he held his wrist to his chest and started cursing him in Russian. The announcer skated out into the rink as the crowd cheered and banged on the window.

"And we have a winner!" the announcer said into the microphone. Two other men skated out and helped the Rusky to his feet.

"This is not fair!" he shouted. "I was tricked by that _parshivyy amerikanskaya_!"

The announcer wrapped a blanket around Skipper's shoulders and led him to the exit of the rink.

"I don't know what you did, but I think you just made an enemy," he said, eyeing the Rusky warily.

Skipper smiled and sniffed. The thought of being able to buy a plane ticket to get home to Marlene brought him a little warmth.

"It's okay. It was worth it."

— § —

**Note: **_parshivyy amerikanskaya_ = lousy American


	5. DamselinDistress and a Brother in Duress

**Chapter 5: A Damsel in Distress and a Brother in Duress**

Private and Rico boarded the ten-fifteen to Manhattan. Luckily, despite it being last minute, they were able to buy seats that were next to each other.

"So, what do you think Skipper's doing right now?" Private asked.

Rico sucked on two Tootsie Pops at the same time—each a different flavor. He answered Private, but it all came out in a slur because of the lollipops.

"I know you know I can't understand you like that," Private said, giving him an unamused stare.

Rico took the pops out of his mouth. "Prob'ly eatin'," he answered.

Private rolled his eyes. "Just because you're hungry doesn't mean everyone is, Rico," he said.

Rico pouted and popped the lollipops back in his mouth.

"He's probably lonely. I hope he gets home soon," Private said worriedly. "Do you think he caught a flight to Manhattan?"

Rico thought for a moment, tapping his chin between the lollipop sticks. "Mm-mm," he answered with a shake of his head.

Private crossed his arms and pouted. "Doubter," he muttered.

Rico laughed and grabbed him in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles on his head. "I 'ust 'iddin'," he said through his lollipops.

— § —

Judy squealed. "You did it!" she said, throwing her arms around him. "I'm so happy for you!"

Skipper sniffed. "Yep, I did it," he said with a shiver. He didn't fully realize how cold he was until he came into the warm lobby. Someone brought him a hot chocolate in a styrofoam cup.

"Compliments of Pepsi Ice Center!" the woman said.

Skipper took it from her. "Thanks," he said, bringing the steam to his face and sighing as it warmed his nose.

Judy led him to a seat. "Did you see the look on that guy's face? He was more upset than the time my mom found a bunny eating her hydrangeas," she laughed.

Other people walked by to congratulate him as he started undoing the laces on his skates. The announcer walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, holding out a check with the other hand.

"Congratulations, Mister . . .?"

"Skipper," he answered.

"Congratulations, you are the winner of one thousand dollars," he said as Skipper took the check from him. He turned to a man holding a camera. "Smile!"

The announcer grinned as Skipper smiled as if he'd just passed gas and the man snapped the photo.

"Have a Merry Christmas," he said before turning to the crowd and clapping his hands together. "All right, everyone! We close these doors at midnight sharp! Anyone still in the building will be forced out! Let's move, people!"

Skipper shucked the blanket off his shoulders and pulled on his shirt and jacket. He took the hot chocolate back from Judy and sipped it with a sigh. "Would you mind driving me to the airport?" he asked Judy with a sniff.

Judy smiled sadly. "Come on," she said, flicking her head toward the door.

The two of them walked outside and headed to where Judy had parked her car. But on the way, Skipper spotted Sherry leaning against an old beat up Ford coupe with the hood propped up a few spaces down. She wore a thick coat over a sweater now, and was on the phone with someone, and she didn't seem happy. Skipper moved closer, but she didn't notice.

". . . done for. I don't know what I'm gonna do. The rent is due this week, Gabe needs new shoes," she said with a frustrated sigh. "Of course this has to happen now. How long will it be before you can come pick me up? . . . All right. Thanks," she said before hanging up. She looked around and saw Skipper standing there and straightened. "Hey," she said. "Congratulations."

Skipper gave his hot chocolate to Judy, stepped up to Sherry, and looked at the car's engine. "Car finally went out, hm?" he asked.

Sherry shifted awkwardly. "Yeah," she answered quietly without meeting his eye.

The check in Skipper's hand suddenly felt heavy, even if it was just a small slip of paper. He thought about Marlene, walking through the front door on Christmas Eve, being with everyone for the holidays. Then he thought about a woman with no ride, no money, a rent left unpaid, and a mother and child evicted from their home. A child with old beat up shoes having to walk to and from school every day. He looked down at the check, and then at Sherry. He held it out to her.

"Here, take it," he told her, looking at his last chance of getting home slipping away from him once again.

Sherry shook her head and stepped back, holding her hands up in rejection. "No, I can't. I—"

Skipper stepped forward and took one of her hands, placing the check in her palm and closing her fingers around it. She looked at him with her eyes glossing over.

"What about your girlfriend?" she asked in a shaky voice.

Skipper shoved his hands in his pockets. "I figure it's you take the money so you can fix your car and take care of your child, or fly home and leave a single mother here with no transportation to get to work so she can feed her only son. I refuse the latter," he said with assuring eyes.

Sherry looked down at the check and her lip quivered. Then she looked at him as a tear fell down her cheek. "Thank you," she managed. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his abdomen. Skipper wrapped his arms around her and patted her back. A few seconds later, she pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping her tears. "You just have no idea how much this means to me."

Skipper smiled. "You're right," he said. "But my mom would have. After my father died, she had to raise me single-handedly for eleven years. We had our rough times."

Sherry sniffed. "I hope you find another way home," she said. "Someone like you deserves to be home for Christmas with the woman he loves. She's a lucky woman," she said with a smile.

Skipper forced a smile. A man that breaks a promise to his girlfriend. Real lucky. "I wish you luck, Sherry."

"Sherry Destiny," she replied. "If you're ever in Bloomington again, look us up. I'd be happy to see you again, maybe introduce you to Gabe."

Skipper nodded. "I'll do that," he promised. "I should go."

Sherry nodded. "Bye, Skipper," she said. "Thanks again."

Skipper shook his head. "Don't mention it," he said before turning around to rejoin Judy, who was waiting a few yards away.

"Wow," she said, giving him his hot chocolate and walking alongside him back to her car, "that must've been hard. That's got to be the nicest thing I've ever seen anyone do for someone else, especially someone they don't even know."

Skipper sighed. "Well, that's the whole reason I became a detective. I care about other people, and it irks me when good people are done wrong. I couldn't let her life fall apart just because she couldn't afford a car part," he explained, climbing into the passenger seat.

Judy climbed into the driver's seat. "So, where will you go, now?" she asked, buckling her seatbelt.

Skipper buckled his. "I don't know," he said, propping his elbow up on the armrest and putting his face in his hand. "Know any good alleys? Or . . . homeless shelters?" he asked, only half-joking. "Just take me to the airport. I'll figure something out."

Judy bit her lip and sighed. "Well, if you don't mind sleeping on the couch, you can crash with my brother and me," she offered.

Skipper shook his head. "No, thanks, I couldn't."

Judy rolled her eyes and crunk up the car. "Well, I'm not letting you sleep in an alley, and I'm not taking you to the airport when you have no money. It's no bother."

"Really, I'd rather not impose," Skipper insisted, looking over at her.

Judy looked back as she pulled out of the parking space. "You're not imposing, Skipper. I insist you spend the night with us."

"But you just met me," Skipper argued.

Judy stopped the car and looked at him with an irritated expression. "Skipper, I've seen you without your shirt. I think we're past formalities," she said, refraining from grinning at the memory.

Skipper narrowed his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he said, relaxing back in the seat, crossing his arms. He exhaled. "Thanks," he said regretfully. He hated that she had to help him—and that he actually really needed it.

"Don't worry about it," Judy said, pulling out of the parking lot.

— § —

Marlene lay in bed staring at the ceiling. She glanced at the clock. Just a few minutes until one in the morning. Skipper would call when he got there, right? For the umpteenth time, she checked her phone to ensure the volume was up and that the battery was full. He said he'd be home tonight. She kept feeling as if something happened again.

She walked into the kitchen and set her phone on the counter. After making a cup of hot cocoa, she sat at the counter with a sigh. The picture on the fridge caught her eye again. It was enough to almost make her smile.

"Merry Christmas, Skipper."

— § —

Kowalski lay in the bed of the hotel room, snuggling with the covers. His phone rang and he stirred, shoving his head under the pillow and letting it go to voicemail. It rang again and he groaned. He looked at the clock, which read just after ten, and he answered the phone.

"Whoever this is, this had better be important," he answered irritably.

_"Kowalski, it's me,"_ answered a voice.

"Me who?" Kowalski asked. He was too tired to try to figure out whose voice it was.

_"Um, Skipper? Best friend and brother since grade school? Wow, you really were sleeping weren't you?"_ Skipper replied, remembering how tired he gets after long drives.

"Oh, no," Kowalski said overly-sarcastically, "I was busy doing my nightly workout."

_"I'm sorry, Kowalski. I just wanted to tell you this as soon as possible. Look, I've kind of been robbed,"_ Skipper started, but Kowalski cut him off.

"What do you mean 'kind of'? Either you were robbed or you weren't, Skipper," he said.

_"Okay, fine. I was robbed. I don't have any money. I need you to take the next flight out to Bloomington, Illinois,"_ Skipper replied.

Kowalski yawned. "I'll try, Skipper, but a lot of flights are still cancelled because of weather."

Skipper cursed under his breath. _"Just wait until one opens up, okay? I kind of . . . need you right now,"_ he admitted.

Kowalski suddenly became fully aware. "All right, who is this, and what have you done with Skipper?"

He could practically hear Skipper rolling his eyes. _"This isn't a joke, Kowalski. I've never been in a situation like this before. I don't know what to do."_

"How are you going to make it through the rest of the night?" Kowalski asked with concern.

_"Don't worry about it, I've got it covered,"_ Skipper answered, not wanting to admit he was sleeping over at someone's house whom he just met. "_Call me when you get a flight, okay?"_

"Copy that," Kowalski said. "Oh, and Merry Christmas," he said, realizing it was Christmas Eve where Skipper was.

_"Yeah. Merry Christmas, Kowalski. And I'm sorry you're still in Seattle. It's all my fault,"_ Skipper said guiltily.

"It's all right, Skipper, I'm not mad at you. I just wish you could've made it home. I'm sorry I couldn't do more," Kowalski replied.

_"You have nothing to be sorry for, Kowalski. You should get some sleep. I'll see you soon,"_ Skipper said.

"Bye, Skipper," Kowalski replied. The line went dead and he flopped back on his pillow, pulling the covers to his chin.

In Bloomington, Skipper sighed as he put his phone back in his pocket. Judy pulled into a parking lot of an apartment building.

"We're here," Judy said. "Look, I'd appreciate if you could keep a low profile. The last thing I need is rumors circulating about me bringing a strange man home," she requested.

"Of course, I understand," Skipper replied.

Judy snuck him up to her apartment and unlocked the door. They entered to a man sitting on the black leather couch eating Doritos and watching some cartoon about penguins. He had short, curly brown hair that fell over his ears and a small round belly with a round face to match.

"You're such a child, Derek," Judy said as Skipper closed the door behind them.

Derek turned to her and locked eyes with Skipper, who shifted awkwardly. "What, you can bring a guy home but I can't bring my girlfriend here?" he asked irritably.

Judy shucked off her jacket and hung it on a hook. "It's not like that, Derek. He's sleeping on the couch, which you're getting Doritos all over," she said, crossing her arms.

Derek looked from his Doritos to Skipper. "So what is he doing here, then?" he asked suspiciously.

"Look, we're both tired. We'll talk about it in the morning. Turn the TV off and go to bed," Judy ordered.

Derek clicked off the television and stood up, rolling down the top of the Doritos bag. "Fine, but if he steals one thing—"

"He's not going to steal anything, Derek," Judy assured him. Derek looked between them and sighed. Without saying anything else, he walked across the room and turned right, the sound of a shutting door shortly following. Judy turned to Skipper. "That's my brother. We're living together while we put ourselves through college."

"Well, don't be too upset at him. He's smart not to trust me yet. He doesn't know me," Skipper said.

Judy exhaled. "You can hang your jacket on the hook, there," she said, pointing to the wall next to where she hung hers. "The bathroom is right there," she said, pointing toward a door across the hall from where Derek went to his room. "The kitchen's obviously there," she said, pointing behind him past the breakfast island, "if you get thirsty or something."

Skipper nodded slowly and looked down. "Thank you. For everything," he said, looking back up at her.

Judy smiled. "You should get some sleep. I'll go find you a blanket and a pillow," she said, walking down the hall and taking the next door past the bathroom.

Skipper laid his bags under the coat rack and hung his coat on the hook. Then he slipped his shoes off, sat down on the couch, and took in the room. In front of the couch was a coffee table with two coasters and a box of tissues on it. To the left of the couch was a red recliner, and a small flatscreen television sat against the wall across from him. On the far side of the room to the left, there were two bookshelves only partially full and an office desk and chair. In the adjacent corner, two tall shelves full of photos sat against the wall.

"Here you go," Judy said, coming around the couch and handing him a folded up blanket with a pillow on top. "I hope you sleep well."

"Thanks, you, too," Skipper replied, accepting the items from her. "When should I expect you to wake up?"

"I have to be up by nine so I can be at work by ten," she said. "Derek should be up about the same time."

"Wow, you have to work on Christmas?" Skipper asked, unfolding the blanket.

"Just Christmas Eve. We're closed Christmas Day. I get to make time and a half if I work tomorrow, and I need the money. We'll be closing early, though," Judy explained. "See you in the morning," she said, walking back toward the bedrooms.

"See you," Skipper replied. He turned to her. "Judy?"

Judy turned just as she reached her bedroom door. "Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas," Skipper said with a smile.

Judy smiled back. "Merry Christmas."

Judy went into her room and closed the door. Skipper sighed and ran his hands over his face. He couldn't believe that not only did he fail Marlene and himself, he was reduced to accepting charity from someone he barely knew. On top of that, he was going to end up spending Christmas on his own, without any of his friends. He got up and switched off the light. Then he stretched himself across the couch and adjusted his head on the pillow and pulled the cover to his chin. He sighed.

"Merry Christmas, Marlene."

— § —

"_Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We'll be arriving in Manhattan shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts and return your seats to their original upright position. And thank you again for choosing Nebraska Regional Airlines."_

Rico yawned and stretched his arms. He looked over at Private, who was still sleeping. He nudged him, but all he did was stir. Rico sighed and buckled his seatbelt for him. Then he did his own.

About twenty minutes later, the plane came to a stop next to the gate and an announcement was made giving the passengers permission to collect their belongings and deboard the plane. Rico shook Private's shoulder, but he was out. He sighed, slung his and Private's bags on his shoulder, and then picked Private up bridal style to carry him off, earning him strange looks from the other passengers at the sight of him carrying the twenty-year-old man. He simply smiled and used Private's limp hand to wave at them.

In the airport, he sat him down at a chair at baggage claim and slapped him across the face.

He woke with a start. "Skipper?" he said, looking around only to find Rico in front of him. "Oh, it's just you," he said with a disappointed sigh. "Wait, how did I get off the plane?" he asked when he realized he was in the airport. They turned at the sound of a little girl's voice nearby.

"Look, Mommy! That's the man that was carried off the plane!" she said, pointing at him with a giggle. The mother ushered her along.

Private glared at Rico. "Really?"

Rico spread his hands. "What?"

Private rolled his eyes. "Never mind. Let's just get our luggage."

After they grabbed their luggage and went through security, they waited outside for a cab.

"I'm going to call Skipper in the morning," Private said with a yawn. "Illinois is an hour behind us, right?"

Rico nodded. "Yup."

A taxi pulled up to the curb and Rico and Private climbed in.

"I hope he caught a flight. Maybe he's waiting for us at the apartment right now."

— § —

The next morning, at around eight, Skipper woke with a yawn and kicked the covers to the opposite side of the couch. As he sat up, he worked the crick out of his neck and cracked his back. According to the silent apartment, no one had woken up yet, so he decided he'd make himself useful.

An hour later, Judy dragged herself into the kitchen with a yawn, her candy cane-printed pajamas wrinkled and her dark brown hair tousled about her head.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

Skipper poured scrambled eggs onto a plate and started turning the sausages. "Well, I figured if you were going to let a stranger spend the night, the stranger should be a little grateful. Thought I'd make you and your brother some breakfast. How do you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled is fine," Judy answered, sitting down at the breakfast island across the kitchen. "But you didn't have to do that."

Skipper crossed to her from the stove, holding out a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. "Yes I did. It's the least I could do in return for your hospitality," he assured her with a smile.

Judy accepted the breakfast with a sigh. "Thanks," she said. "Did you sleep okay?"

"With the way I was feeling, I could've slept on a rock," Skipper said with a laugh. He sniffed.

"But the couch was better than a rock, right?" Judy laughed.

Skipper turned the stove down to warm and the sizzling of the sausages gradually began to slow. He brought over his own plate of breakfast and sat next to her. "Definitely better than a rock," he said with a smile. A second later he sneezed into his arm.

"Gesundheit," Judy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Thanks," Skipper said.

Judy tasted her eggs. "Mm, wow. These are pretty good," she said.

Skipper smiled. "Thank you. The secret is cooking the salt _into_ the eggs, rather than sprinkling it on top afterward," he explained.

Judy seemed surprised. "So he cooks, too."

"Well, not really. It's usually one of my partners that does the cooking. I just picked up a few things," Skipper explained.

Judy nodded in understanding. Then she looked irritated. "Yo, Derek! Wake up! You gotta go to work!" she called toward his bedroom. She received no answer and rolled her eyes. "Be right back," she said, getting up and walking around the island to his room.

Skipper continued to eat as he heard distant bickering from Derek's bedroom. A moment later he heard Derek's voice saying, "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" and they appeared a moment later, Judy dragging him by his ear. She let go when they reached the island and Derek clutched his ear with his face contorted with anger.

"You know I hate when you do that," he said sharply.

"Then get up when you're supposed to, stupid," Judy snapped back. "You want breakfast or not?"

"How did you make breakfast so fast?" he asked.

"He made it before I got up," Judy answered, pointing at Skipper with her fork.

Derek narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What did you do to it?" he asked Skipper.

Skipper smiled calmly. "I added a little arsenic. It gives it a kick, you know?"

Judy laughed and Derek crossed his arms. "Ha-ha, very funny. Fine, I'll take some," he said, sitting down across from Judy.

She stabbed him with her fork, though not enough to break skin. "Be polite!" she ordered.

"Ow!" Derek said, rubbing his hand where she'd stabbed him. "Come on, I don't even know why he's here!"

Skipper crossed the kitchen to the stove and started fixing him a plate as he started explaining his situation and the events of last night. He brought him his breakfast and continued on to explaining that one of his partners should be coming to get him soon, if he can get a flight out of Seattle.

Derek nodded as his story came to an end. "So, you just invite the man you knew for about an hour to come spend the night."

"Derek, he's been through a lot. Plus, he's a cop. He's not going to hurt us," Judy assured him.

"Yeah, and how do you know he's a cop? Did he show you his badge?" Derek asked, as if Skipper wasn't even there.

"Well . . ." Judy started uneasily, "no. But I still believe him. Why else would he have gone to the trouble of doing that stupid contest Pepsi Ice was advertising if not to buy a plane ticket home?"

"Maybe he wanted a thousand dollars?" Derek argued as if that was obvious.

"Then why did he sacrifice it to give it to a woman that couldn't afford to fix her car and pay rent to keep a roof over her son's head?" Judy shot back.

Derek hesitated and looked at Skipper, who started to stand.

"I'll just go get my badge," he said awkwardly.

"Nah," Derek said as he started eating his eggs, "don't worry about it. My sister's always been a better judge of character than me, anyways."

Skipper exchanged a glance with Judy, who motioned for him to sit back down. He did.

"Wow, a compliment. I guess it is Christmas," Judy said, grinning.

Derek narrowed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her. Skipper smiled humorously.

"If your family is anything like you two, then maybe they shouldn't be in the same room," Skipper joked.

Judy laughed. "Honestly, we get along better than anyone else in our family," she said with a smile. "Right, moron?" she asked her brother sweetly.

"Absolutely, worm-eater," Derek replied with a bittersweet smile.

"I was six! And you forced me to do it," Judy said, pointing her fork at him.

Skipper started laughing. "How have you two survived this long?" he asked, biting into a sausage.

Judy finished her eggs. "Well, first you have to be forced to live with him for eighteen years to build up a tolerance. Then use your obviously higher intelligence quotient to keep him in line."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You _can_ just say IQ," he said, ignoring the rest of the remark.

"I don't like acronyms, Derek. You know this," Judy replied as if she'd told him a million times.

"Yeah, yeah. They're 'lazy,'" Derek replied using air quotes.

Skipper awkwardly cleared his throat to remind them he was still sitting there. They looked at him for a moment, then smiled as if nothing happened.

"Please ignore my brother's rudeness," Judy said.

"And my sister's ugliness," Derek chimed in.

"Not helping your _case_, Derek," Judy said through her teeth.

There was silence for a moment and Skipper took the opportunity to jump in. "So, anybody want more sausage?" he asked.


	6. Lyin', Cheatin' Hearts

**Chapter 6: Lyin', Cheatin' Hearts**

Marlene got up with a stretch and a yawn at just before ten after a restless sleep. She checked her phone and sighed when there were no messages. After showering and getting dressed, she trudged downstairs. Her heart leapt when she saw Private and Rico in the cafeteria talking to the other residents. She ran to them.

"Rico! Private!" she called. They turned and smiled.

"Marlene!" Private called back as Marlene gave him a hug.

"Hey, guys!" Marlene said, turning and wrapping her arms around Rico. "Welcome back. Where's Skipper and Kowalski?"

Private's smile faded and he shifted on his feet. "I thought Skipper would've told you. Kowalski's still in Seattle. We had to rent a car to drive down to Pendleton, and we had no one to drive it back, so Kowalski volunteered so Skipper could be here for Christmas," he explained. Marlene's heart dropped. She couldn't believe Kowalski did that for him. "Skipper, on the other hand, missed the flight to Nebraska when he took those few precious seconds to call you. Luckily, he caught a flight to Illinois instead. He said he'd catch a flight here from there, but I don't know if he did. I haven't heard from him since Pendleton."

Marlene shifted worriedly on her feet. "I've got to call him," she said, pulling out her phone.

— § —

Judy fixed her hair in the mirror hanging in the hallway since Skipper was using her bathroom to shower. Derek had already left for work. She finished tying her apron around her waist and put her Santa hat on. After grabbing her bag and car keys, she headed for the door. But before she got there, she heard a phone ringing.

It took her a couple seconds to realize it was coming from Skipper's coat pocket. She pulled the phone out and read the caller ID: Marlene Sullivan. She recognized the name as the woman whom Skipper had said he was dating. She set it on the counter and let it go to voicemail. She started to leave again, but once again, the phone started to ring. Skipper had just jumped in the shower, so there was no telling how many times she'd call before he'd notice. Marlene was probably worried out of her mind about him, it being Christmas Eve and him still not being there.

With a regretful sigh, she answered the phone. "H-Hello?" she said.

_"Um . . . who is this?"_ asked Marlene on the other line in a confused tone.

"It's kind of a long story, uh . . . Look, I know what you're probably thinking, but I assure you, it's nothing like that," Judy said firmly. "Your boyfriend, Skipper—"

_"How do you know Skipper?"_ Marlene asked in a demanding voice.

"Well, he was going to buy a plane ticket to Manhattan as soon as he got here, but someone stole his money and credit cards. He's stuck here with no way home. I'm sorry to have to tell you that, I know you wanted him home for Christmas. But he tried everything he could. He even entered this stupid contest and won a thousand dollars, but he ended up giving it to a woman who was coming dangerously close to losing the roof over her son's head." Judy sighed. "You have an amazing man here, Marlene. I hope you know that."

There was silence for a moment before she responded. _"I know. Where is he now?"_ she asked a little calmer.

"He's taking a shower. He had a really tough day yesterday, so I let him stay the night since he can't get a hotel. He's been going crazy trying to get home to you and he feels just awful that he failed you. He's told me so much about you. I can tell he really loves you and I assure you that you have nothing to worry about," Judy told her. Marlene didn't reply. "I would buy him a ticket myself if I had the money. I'm sorry I don't."

_"It's okay,"_ Marlene replied, obviously disappointed. _"Tell him to call me, will you?"_

"Absolutely. And Marlene? I'm—I'm sorry," Judy said.

_"It's fine,"_ Marlene replied.

"Despite, I hope you have a Merry Christmas," Judy said painfully.

"_Yeah, thanks. You, too,"_ Marlene replied, hanging up without giving her a chance to reply.

Judy sighed and went to his call log to delete the received call so Skipper wouldn't know she'd answered. She left the missed call from before so he would know to call her back and left the phone on the counter. Then she left for work.

— § —

Marlene held her phone in her hand, staring at it as if there were the possibility of concentrating hard enough to pull Skipper home from it.

"What happened? Who was on the phone, Marlene?" Private asked.

"A woman," Marlene answered, crossing her arms. "She says Skipper had his money and credit cards stolen and has no way to get home. He's staying with _her_."

It was obvious Marlene was having doubts. She was holding back tears.

"Is that all?" Private asked.

"She said he's been trying to get home, but he's stuck in Illinois. He probably won't be home for Christmas," Marlene said as a tear fell down her cheek.

Private looked down for a moment, and then back to Marlene. "You really don't think he's—" He stopped as Marlene looked down, shoving her tongue into her cheek. "Marlene," Private said quietly, "Skipper is head over heels for you. You know he's not that kind of man."

"That's what I thought too," she said, turning and walking out of the cafeteria. Rico and Private chased after her and Private grabbed her arm and forced her to stop.

"Marlene, listen to me. I'm sure there's an explanation for this," he said softly. "I bet Skipper will be calling any minute and he'll tell you himself."

Marlene breathed deeply and her lip quivered. She wouldn't meet either of their gazes.

"Marlene," Private said more firmly, "I swear to you, you have nothing to worry about." He sighed. "You want to know a secret?" he asked.

Marlene wiped her tears on the back of her arm. "What?" she asked, still not looking at him.

"I really, really shouldn't be telling you this," Private said as guilt started to weigh his stomach down. "A few months ago, I was looking for my wallet. I thought Skipper may have picked it up by accident, so I searched through his room a little. And . . . I accidentally found something I probably shouldn't have."

Marlene finally locked eyes with him in anticipation. "What was it?"

Private took a deep breath. "First, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone I said anything. And you have act like you didn't know about it," he said.

Marlene nodded slowly. "All right, I promise."

"I found a—" He paused. "I found an engagement ring. I think he's planning on proposing to you. He hasn't said anything to us for some reason, but I figured he'd tell us when he was ready."

Marlene's jaw fell open and she looked at the ground, speechless.

"Skipper loves you, Marlene. There's no doubt in my mind. I know Skipper. Proposing to you isn't a decision he'd make lightly. Not because he doubts his love for you, but because he wants to make sure it's the right time—that you're willing to take that step. And he's a man of honor. He would never cheat on you," Private told her.

Marlene composed herself and laughed. "I'm sorry I forced you to tell me that, Private. I don't know how I could've ever lost my faith in him like that on the drop of a dime." She perked up as if she had an ingenious thought. "I—I have to go! Merry Christmas!" she said as she took off through the lobby. Private and Rico chased her out onto the snowy sidewalk.

"Wait! Marlene, where are you going?" Private called.

"Illinois!" Marlene called back, laughing.

Private and Rico looked at each other and the same thought passed through their minds. They chased Marlene out to her car and Private put his hand over hers just as she reached for the door handle.

"Wait, Marlene," he said.

"What?" Marlene said, breathing heavily.

Private grinned. "I have a better idea."

— § —

Skipper had only brought three outfits: the one he wore on the plane to Seattle, one to change into for the plane ride back, and a backup. He was down to the latter. He changed into it and noticed his phone on the island. He picked it up and saw that he'd missed Marlene's call.

"Oh, man," Skipper said, running his hand over his face. He'd completely forgotten that he hadn't called her since Pendleton. He tapped her contact and hit send.

_"Skipper! It's about time you called me back! I've been worried. Where are you?"_ Marlene's voice said.

"Hey, Marlene," Skipper replied quietly. He closed his eyes. "Look, this isn't easy to say, but I probably won't make it home for Christmas. I tried _everything _I could. I missed the flight to Nebraska and had to catch a flight to Illinois instead. I was going to fly to Manhattan from there, but someone stole my money and credit cards. I have no money with me. There's nothing I can do," he said, cringing.

_"It's okay, Skipper. I know you. You did everything you could,"_ Marlene said understandingly.

Skipper opened his eyes in a confused shock. "But I broke a promise to you, Marlene. I've never broken a promise to you. I'm so sorry, Marlene."

_"Skipper, I'm not angry. Of course I'm disappointed that you won't make it, but I'm not going to hold anything against you. You tried, Skipper. I don't want you to feel guilty on Christmas, especially when you have nothing to feel guilty about,"_ Marlene replied.

Skipper fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I let you down. That's what I have to feel guilty about," he said, feeling anger rise in his chest—anger at himself, anger at Fate, anger at the woman who stole his hard-earned cash.

_"Skipper, you didn't let me down. Please, Skipper, it's Christmas. Now, smile,"_ she ordered. She waited a moment. "_Are you smiling?"_

Skipper forced a smile. "Yes, Marlene, I'm smiling."

_"Please. I can hear it in your voice. That is the fakest smile I've ever heard. Now, smile!"_ she ordered again.

This time, Skipper genuinely smiled. Marlene was so intuitive when it came to emotions. "Okay, Marlene, I'm smiling."

_"That's better. I love you, Skipper. I know you tried your best to get home. That's all that matters to me,"_ Marlene assured him.

Skipper sighed. "I love you, too, Marlene. I hope you have a wonderful time with everyone," he said.

_"Oh, don't you worry about that. I think we're going to have a great time. Oh! By the way, Private and Rico made it home. They told me about Kowalski. I'm sorry that had to happen. That was noble of him,"_ she said.

Skipper pressed his lips together. Kowalski was alone on Christmas, too. All because he wanted Skipper to be able to go home to Marlene for Christmas. "Yeah," he said. "He'll never know how much I appreciated that. I just wish it wasn't for nothing."

He could've swore he heard Marlene suppress a laugh. _"I don't know about that, Skipper,"_ she said.

Skipper cocked an eyebrow. "Marlene?"

_"Heh, Merry Christmas, Skipper. I hope to see you soon,"_ she replied.

"Merry Christmas, Marlene. Hopefully Kowalski will be here to bail me out soon," he said. "Are you sure there's nothing you need to tell me? You sound awfully cheery."

_"Well, it's Christmas, isn't it? Aren't I supposed to be cheery?"_

Skipper smiled. "Absolutely. I'll see you soon, Marlene," he said.

_"Bye, Skipper,"_ Marlene said. The line went dead and Skipper stuck his phone in his back pocket.

He spent most of the rest of his day trying to find something good on television. He had to blow his nose a couple of times and figured the cold must be getting to his sinuses. He hoped it had nothing to do with that stupid ice skating competition. Finally, he got bored and went to the corner of the living room where the two shelves containing the photos were.

On the top shelf of one, there was a photo of a small boy and girl Skipper recognized as Judy and Derek, sitting on a woman's lap. Skipper assumed it must be their mother. In the next photo, Derek and Judy—who seemed in their teen years—were seated at a table at someone's birthday. Derek had white icing on his finger and was reaching for Judy's nose, who recoiled back with a smile. Skipper chuckled.

The next one was of an old woman sitting in an armchair with an old man standing next to her with his hand on his shoulder. Maybe their grandparents? In the next one was a group of people. Judy and Derek, also in their teens, were standing together on the far right side. That must be their whole family, maybe a few friends.

On the next shelf, there was a photo of Judy and Derek at possibly eighteen or nineteen years, standing in the center of the empty apartment with their arms outstretched and smiles on their faces. Must've been when they first moved in. The next photo was of Judy holding a piece of paper with the symbol of Illinois Wesleyan University at the top of it. She was grinning as if she'd just won the lottery. Skipper assumed it might be her acceptance letter. He wondered what she's majoring in.

The next photo was of Judy at the desk across the room with three different books open in front of her and a notebook in her lap. She was looking at the camera as if she wanted to throw it and whoever was holding it out of the window. The next photo was of Derek wearing a cap and gown, standing next to four other guys dressed the same, all holding up their high school diplomas.

There was a click behind him and he turned as Derek walked in.

"Okay," he said, nodding as he looked around, "you didn't burn the place down. Everything seems in order."

Skipper smiled. "Your confidence in me is heartwarming," he said sarcastically.

Derek shut the door and threw his keys on the island. "Ah, but you are _still_ a stranger to me," he said, walking into the living room. He came to a stop at his side. "What are you doing?"

"Just looking at your photos over here," Skipper answered, gesturing to their shelves.

"Why?" Derek asked, narrowing his eyes. "Trying to gather information on us before you strike?"

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Look, if you want to see my badge, I'll get it. I'm not going to try anything," he replied.

Derek crossed his arms. "A badge means nothing but the fact that you're a cop."

Skipper sighed irritably. "If I wanted to steal anything, I would've done it while you were gone. I had plenty of time."

Derek looked him up and down. "Fine. I just want to keep my sister safe, all right? She might be a pain, but I still care about her."

Skipper nodded. "I understand," he said.

Derek prodded his chest. "But if you tell her I said that, I'm kicking you out in the snow," he threatened.

Skipper smiled. "Duly noted," he said.

Derek crossed his arms again with a satisfied smile. "So, did you hear from your friend yet?"

Skipper sighed and shook his head. "No. I guess the snowstorms are still pretty bad," he replied.

Derek walked over to the couch and sat down, kicking his shoes off. "So, you said something about a girlfriend?"

Skipper leaned against the back of the couch. "Yeah. I talked to her earlier, while you were gone. I had to tell her I wouldn't make it home," he said.

"How'd she take it?" Derek asked, looking over at him.

"Better than I thought," Skipper answered. "She said she wasn't upset with me."

"Ooh," Derek said with a painful look on his face.

"What?" Skipper asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, if I know anything about women from living with my sister for twenty-three years, it's that a lot of times, they don't say how they really feel. They want you to figure it out," Derek explained. "She's probably on her couch with a box of Kleenexes, watching romantic Christmas movies."

Skipper cocked an eyebrow at the image. "I don't know. That doesn't seem like Marlene. She's usually pretty open about her feelings."

Derek laughed. "That's what women want you to think. You see, women want a man that knows them better than they know themselves. They want a man that doesn't just accept how they _say_ they're feeling—a man that will just know," he told him.

Skipper thought about that. "Well, I've known her for eleven years. I can usually tell when she's lying to me about how she's feeling," he said.

"Twenty-three years, Skip," Derek replied. "That's how long I've been Judy's brother. And she's only twenty-five. I've seen everything, heard everything. I'm not saying I'm an expert, but I know a thing or two."

Skipper looked down into his hands. Marlene sounded like she was telling the truth on the phone. But then, it was Christmas. She possibly just didn't want him to feel guilty. That would be the kind of thing Marlene would do.

"I'd, um," Skipper said, looking away, "like to go for a walk."

— § —

Skipper had been walking for about an hour now, his hands shoved in his coat pockets. It was six o'clock and the sun had dipped just under the horizon, so there wasn't much light left. If only he hadn't called Marlene back in Pendleton, he'd be home by now. Kowalski wouldn't have sacrificed his Christmas for him for nothing, and he wouldn't have failed Marlene.

He couldn't stop thinking about what Derek said. He'd certainly met some confusing women in his lifetime, but Marlene wasn't one of them. He thought about the possibility of Marlene actually being upset with him for breaking his promise. Would she hold that against him? He was usually able to tell when she was lying about her feelings. Then again, it may be a bit harder to tell over the phone than in person. Finally, the thought was eating him alive and he called her.

_"Hello?"_ Marlene shouted through the receiver. There was a lot of noise behind her.

"Marlene? He-Hello? What's all that noise?" Skipper called back.

_"I'm at the Christmas party Julien's throwing! I really wish you were here, Skipper! Everyone's having a great time!"_ Marlene replied.

Skipper exhaled. He hoped she was one of the ones having a great time. "Listen, I just wanted to know. Did you really mean it when you said you weren't upset with me for not making it home? I know you, Marlene. I know you would say that so I wouldn't feel guilty on Christmas."

_"Skipper, I told you. You have nothing to worry about. I'm not upset. I want you to make the most of Christmas, okay?"_ Marlene replied.

Skipper paused. "Are you sure?"

_"I promise, Skipper. Look, I'll call you later. It's a little difficult to hear you right now,"_ Marlene said.

"All right," Skipper replied quietly. "Bye, Marlene."

_"Bye, Skipper,"_ Marlene said before hanging up.

Skipper slipped his phone into his pocket with a sigh. He decided he should go back to Judy's apartment and turned around. That's when he froze in his tracks.

The old woman from the airport just walked out of a small department store wearing what looked like a new fur coat. She didn't notice him and started walking in the other direction. With anger rising in his throat, he marched up to her and grabbed her by the arm. She turned with a gasp and her eyes widened.

"Hello, _Cinthy_," Skipper growled. "Where's my money?"

"Help!" Cinthy cried. "Thief!"

Skipper let go of her and stepped back with his hands raised. "What? _I'm_ the thief? _You_ stole _my_ money!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cinthy said with a scowl.

Skipper ran his hand over his face. "Look, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you keep the money and I won't press any charges if you just give me my girlfriend's engagement ring. That's all I want."

Cinthy spread her gloved hands innocently. "What ring? I don't have any ring."

Skipper exhaled to try to stay calm. "I had it on the plane, then I bump into you and suddenly it's gone. Plus, you stole my money, which doesn't help your case," he said.

"I'm telling you, I don't have any engagement ring. You lost that on your own, sonny," Cinthy chided.

Skipper stepped closer to her again. "Look, lady, I'm not playing with you. Give me the ring and we'll forget this ever happened," he said through his teeth.

Cinthy narrowed her eyes. "I don't have it, never did. And if you don't leave me alone, I'll call for help again, and who are they going to believe? Do you really think they'll believe a sweet old lady stole your money?" she threatened.

Skipper stared hard into her icy eyes. He wanted to deny it, but he knew she was right. He stormed off without another word.


	7. Unexpectancies, Miracles, and a Revolt

**Chapter 7: Unexpectancies, Miracles, and a Revolt**

"Hey, there you are," Judy said as she answered the door to Skipper and let him in. "I was starting to worry you'd gotten lost."

"I wasn't too far off," Skipper muttered.

"Is everything okay?" she asked as he hung his coat on the wall.

"I'm fine," Skipper said, heading toward the bathroom. "I'll be out in a minute."

Shutting the door behind him, he put the lid down on the toilet and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands. He wasn't sure whether to believe Cinthy or not. If she didn't steal his ring, where could it have possibly gone to? She had to be lying. He got up, turned on the tap on the sink, and looked in the mirror.

There was snow sprinkled in his hair and he brushed it out with his hand. Then he leaned against the sink with a sigh. He loathed that she was right. If someone came to him and told him they were hustled by a little old lady, he probably wouldn't have believed them either. Until now, that is. He splashed water in his face and dried himself with the hand towel.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Judy asked as he came back into the living room. Derek was on the couch watching _The Looney Tunes_.

"I'd just rather not talk about it," Skipper replied.

Judy sighed. "I brought Kentucky Fried Chicken," she said with a smile. "Hungry?"

He wasn't, but it was getting late. "Yeah," Skipper said, sitting at the island. Judy slid a plate and the bucket of chicken toward him.

"Here you go," she said. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Skipper pulled a leg out and fiddled with it on his plate. "Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks for the chicken."

Judy's cell rang. "No problem," she said with a smile. She pulled out her phone and answered it. "Hello?"

Skipper sighed and absentmindedly munched on the chicken leg as she talked with someone. Something about something that happened at her college. It was another fifteen minutes before the conversation came to an end.

"All right," Judy said, "I'll talk to you later. Bye."

She hung up with sigh. Then she looked at him. "So, uh, is the chicken okay?"

Skipper nodded. "It's fine. So, when do you have to be at your family's tomorrow?"

"Ten o'clock," Judy answered. "You can come if you want. I'd hate to leave you alone. We can just say you're an old friend of Derek's. Maybe you can keep me company when the fighting starts," she offered with a humorous grin.

Skipper shook his head. "No, it's your family. I'd just feel awkward the whole time anyway," he said.

Judy laughed. "You'd be surprised. They're actually very welcoming to new people," she said.

Skipper shook his head again. "No, really. I appreciate the offer, but I'd really rather just sit here and wait for Kowalski's call," he insisted.

Judy sighed. "All right. If you change your mind, the offer still stands. I'll bring you back a turkey leg," she said with a grin.

Skipper smiled back. "I'll look forward to it." He sneezed again.

Judy passed him a Kleenex with a lopsided smile. "Coming down with something?" she asked.

"Nah," Skipper said, accepting the Kleenex, "I never get sick."

— § —

At three o'clock in the morning, Skipper was forced awake by the sound of his phone ringing.

"Hello?" he slurred into the phone without seeing who it was.

_"Hey, it's Kowalski,"_ answered Kowalski's voice. _"You wanted me to call you when I got a flight to Illinois."_

Skipper sat himself up. "You got one?" he asked with a yawn.

_"Yes, at four o'clock. I should be there between nine and ten in the morning your time,"_ Kowalski told him.

Skipper smiled. "Great. We might make it home by the afternoon. At least we'll be home for some of Christmas."

_"That's right. I'll see you in the morning,"_ Kowalski said.

"Do you want me to meet you at the airport?" Skipper asked.

_"Yeah, if you can get a ride,"_ Kowalski replied.

"I'll see you there. Bye, Kowalski," Skipper said.

_"I'll call you when I land. Over and out, Skip."_

Skipper ended the call and flopped back onto the pillow with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Skipper."

— § —

In the morning, around seven, Judy woke to her cell phone vibrating against her bedside table.

"Hello?" she answered with a sigh. When she heard the response, she opened her eyes in confusion and sat up. "Who is this? How did you get this number?" She listened to the reply. Then she cocked her head in thought. "Okay, I'm not sure if I should consider that creepy or not. What do you want to talk to me for?" She listened. Then she smiled. "Oh my gosh, that's great!" she said, lowering her voice. "He'll be so happy! But I still don't know why you need me." She listened to the response. Then she thought for a moment. "Actually, I think I know the perfect place. Meet me at Kent's Diner on East Washington Street." She listened. "Okay, I'll leave now and meet you there with the key."

She sprang out of bed and threw on the first things she could find in her closet and raked a brush through her hair and pinned it up. Then she slowly opened her bedroom door and peeked out. Skipper wasn't within her line of sight, so she started tiptoeing toward the living room. Skipper was still asleep. She grabbed her coat and keys off their hooks on the wall and went to the door.

"Where you headed?" Skipper asked without opening his eyes. Judy stopped in her tracks and cringed. She turned around.

"I thought you were asleep," she said nervously.

"I was," Skipper replied, "but I have sharp senses."

"Well," Judy said, trying to think of a lie real quick, "I was just lying there in bed when I remembered I forgot to pick up the cranberry sauce for my family get-together. I was put in charge of that and I don't want to be the one to start the fights this year," she said quickly.

Skipper propped himself up by his elbow and looked at her. "Well, my senses tell me you're lying, but I guess your business is your business. Drive safely," he said.

Judy just nodded. "Be back in a minute," she said with a smile.

Skipper lay back down and Judy left. When she returned at around eight, Skipper was awake and kneeling next to his bags, double-checking them to ensure he had everything together. Derek was in the shower.

"Hey, you going somewhere?" Judy asked.

"Yes, actually," Skipper said, standing up. "Kowalski called me last night. He should be landing in Bloomington in about an hour. Can you drop me off at the airport?"

"Sure. We'll go in about half an hour, okay?" Judy said.

Skipper nodded. He looked down for a moment, and then looked back to Judy. "Look, I really want to thank you for letting me stay here. Your kindness means a lot to me. There should be more people like you," he said with a grateful smile.

Judy smiled back. "You're welcome. I'm glad you'll get to go home," she said.

Skipper laughed slightly. "Yeah, me, too."

They turned at the sound of the bathroom door and Derek came into the living room in a towel. "Hey, Judy," he called. "I'm out of shaving cream, so I used yours, 'kay?" he said with a smile. He turned and walked into his room, shutting the door behind him without waiting for a response.

Skipper tried not to laugh as Judy strangled the air for a moment. Then she went to the fridge with a laugh. "Want something to drink?" she asked.

"Nah," Skipper declined, "I don't want anything forcing me to using those tiny airplane toilets," he said with a laugh.

Judy laughed. "Gotcha," she replied, grabbing a glass and filling it with orange juice. She held it up. "Then I guess here's my one-woman toast to your safe flight home," she said. Skipper smiled and she drank down the glass in one go, setting down the glass with a sigh. Derek walked into the kitchen, thankfully fully clothed this time.

"So, when are you leaving?" he asked, leaning against the island.

Skipper smiled. "About twenty minutes," he said bittersweetly.

Derek held out his hand and Skipper hesitantly grasped it.

"It was _wonderful_ knowing you," Derek said all too kindly. "Thank you for not murdering me in my sleep."

"I'm sure it took restraint," Judy muttered across the room. Derek glared at her for a moment and she shrugged innocently. Skipper refrained from laughing.

Skipper dropped his hand. "I hope you two have a wonderful Christmas," he said, ignoring Derek's earlier remark.

"You too," Derek said. He looked at his bags. "I'll go put your bags in the car."

Skipper didn't protest. Anything to get him to leave. Derek picked up his bags and Skipper opened the door for him. Judy stepped closer to him.

"I know you'll have a wonderful Christmas," she said with a smile. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "It was good to know you, even in such a short amount of time."

Skipper put his hands on her back. "You too. Thanks again for everything."

Judy pulled away. "No problem. Let me go change and fix my hair real quick. I was in hurry when I left earlier."

Skipper nodded. "All right."

Twenty-two minutes later, Judy and Skipper climbed into her car and buckled themselves in. Derek stood at the entrance of the apartment building and waved at Skipper. Skipper rolled his eyes and waved back with a forced smile.

Judy laughed. "Sorry you've had to deal with my brother," she said.

"Ah, I've met worse," Skipper assured her with a smile.

Judy looked at him in mock surprise. "Worse than Derek? Oh, you poor thing!" she said, causing both of them to laugh. Judy pulled out of the parking lot. A few minutes later, she gasped as a thought came to her mind.

Skipper looked at her. "Something wrong?"

"I just realized I forgot to lock up the diner yesterday," she said. "Would you mind if we stopped by there and made sure everything is untouched?"

"Yeah, that's no problem," Skipper said.

Judy drove to the diner and paralleled in front of it. It was completely dark through the windows. Then she and Skipper got out and walked to the door. Judy cautiously looked through the glass door and pushed it open. Skipper followed her in and nearly jumped out of his skin when the lights flicked on.

"Surprise!" shouted a group of people.

Skipper looked around. "Roy? Burt? Julien?" he said, looking around. He recognized all his friends from his apartment building in Manhattan. "What's going on here? How did—"

He stopped short when he saw Marlene rise from a chair, looking at him with a smile. "When I found out you were in Illinois with no way home," she started, "I couldn't let you spend Christmas alone. I was planning on driving here myself, but—" She paused and turned to Private, who stepped forward.

"But I suggested that we rent a bus and all of us drive here instead," he said with a smile.

"Did you see the look on your face? Ha!" Julien said, laughing. When he composed himself, he said, "I hope you're happy, because I paid good money for this."

Skipper swallowed as his eyes glossed over. He smiled. "I'm more than happy," he said, his voice breaking. "I can't believe you all came here."

"We couldn't let you be alone on Christmas!" Becky said at his left.

"You've done a lot for each of us," Maurice cut in. "It was the least we could do."

Skipper sniffed and Marlene stepped up to him.

"Merry Christmas, Skipper," she said softly.

Skipper took her by the waist and wrapped his arms around her. He smelled the familiar scent of her hair and smiled with joy. Everyone around them watched in awe.

A thought struck him and he pulled away and looked at Judy, who was standing a short ways behind him with a smile.

"You knew about this?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I got a call this morning from your girlfriend. Don't even ask me how she got my number," she said with a roll of her eyes. Marlene covered her smile with her hand.

"Sorry," she said.

"Forget about it," Judy replied with a smile. "Anyway, she told me she was here in Illinois and asked if I knew any place they could rent out for the day. I told her to meet me here and I'd let her in."

"Does your boss know about this?" Skipper asked.

Judy shifted. "Not particularly," she admitted. "But it'll be all right."

He smiled gratefully. Then he looked back to Marlene. "What about Kowalski?"

"Over here, Skipper," said Kowalski's voice off to the right. Skipper looked at him. "That flight actually landed at about seven in the morning. Marlene called me yesterday and told me what she was planning."

Skipper smiled. "You sneaky liar," he said.

Kowalski smiled back. "Guilty as charged."

Skipper looked back to Marlene. "I can't believe you did this for me," he said softly.

Marlene gripped his collar. "Well, believe it," she said before pulling him forward so his lips met hers. Skipper gripped her waist and held her closer. Becky dog whistled and the two of them laughed as they pulled away and put their foreheads together.

"Well," Julien broke in, "I say it's time to get this party started!" he said, hitting a button on the boom box. It started playing _Jingle Bell Rock_ and everyone started dancing to the beat.

Skipper held Marlene's face in his hand. "I'll be right back."

She nodded and Skipper turned to Judy and walked out with her. "Thank you again for everything. If you happen to want to come here when your family starts fighting, you're more than welcome," he said with a grateful smile. They stopped by her car.

Judy smiled. "Thanks, but no thanks. They won't fight for too long, they don't have the energy for that," she said with a laugh. "My family may be difficult, but they're still my family."

Skipper nodded in understanding and grabbed his bags from the backseat. "Goodbye, Judy," he said.

"Bye, Skipper. I'll drop by later to lock up," she said. "Merry Christmas."

Skipper smiled. "Merry Christmas, Judy."

He watched as she climbed into her car and drove off. Then he went back inside and set his bags by the wall near a fake plant. He took off his jacket and laid it on top. Marlene grabbed his arm.

"I believe you owe me a dance," she said, dragging him to the center of the diner as, ironically, _I'll Be Home for Christmas_ started playing. But this time, Skipper wasn't annoyed by it. He braced his hands on her waist and she on his shoulders and they swayed together.

This had turned out to be their best Christmas together yet.

— § —

After an hour of mingling with all his friends, Skipper took Marlene off to the far side of the diner, next to the windows. With one arm around her waist, Marlene rested her head on Skipper's chest, and he, her head, and they watched as snow slowly began to fall outside.

"So, how did someone steal your money, exactly?" Marlene asked.

Skipper looked down at her and cleared his throat. "A, uh, guy on the plane must've picked my pocket," he lied. He wasn't about to tell his girlfriend that he was hustled by an old lady.

A second later, he saw a woman and her daughter walk by the diner. Skipper recognized them as Sarah and her mother from the plane.

"Wait here, Marlene," he said, running toward the door, leaving his confused girlfriend behind. "Sarah!" he called. The girl and her mother turned.

"Mr. Skipper! I thought you'd be in Manhattan by now," Sarah said, furrowing her brow.

"It's a long story," Skipper said, kneeling in front of her so their eyes were level. "Look, I just wanted to say you were right. Fate was just trying to make things turn out unexpectedly for me," he said with a smile.

Sarah grinned. "I told you! So, your Christmas isn't so bad, then, huh?" she asked.

Skipper shook his head. "Definitely not."

Sarah continued to smile. Then she perked up as she remembered something. "Oh, I almost forgot!" she said as she started rummaging through her small purse. "I realized my comb fell out of my pocket on the plane and went to look around my seat and I found this under yours. You must've missed your pocket and it fell when you got up. I was planning on giving it to the airport Lost &amp; Found, but we were in such a hurry, I forgot I had it," she said, pulling out a small velvet box and holding it out to him.

Skipper's stomach flip-flopped. He took the box from her and opened it to see his engagement ring unharmed. He laughed. He couldn't believe it.

"What's so funny?" Sarah asked.

Skipper closed the box and shook his head. "Nothing. Thank you, Sarah. You have no idea how I felt when I thought I lost this."

"No problem, Mr. Skipper. Merry Christmas!" she said as she and her mother started walking away.

"Yes, Merry Christmas!" Skipper called back. He looked at the box in his hand and put it in his pocket. Now he just had to be man enough to ask her.

"Who was that, Skipper?" Marlene asked as Skipper came back in brushing snow out of his hair and off his shoulders.

"Just someone that was on my flight here," he answered. He took her by the hands. "Marlene, I'm really sorry I broke my promise to you and didn't make it home for Christmas—that you came all the way out here just for me," he said, looking into her eyes.

Marlene gripped his hands. "That's just it, Skipper. You didn't break your promise. It doesn't matter if we're in New York, or Illinois, or Timbuktu! To me, home is wherever you are," she said.

Skipper smiled. "You're absolutely right, Marlene," he said. He made a split-second decision and his heart started to pound. "Thank you."

Marlene furrowed her brow. "For what?" she asked.

"For giving me the courage I needed to do this." He lowered himself to one knee and looked up at her, still holding her hands. Her jaw dropped and her eyes glossed over. "Marlene, I'm in love with you. Inevitably, irreversibly, and indefinitely. You're the most stubborn woman I've ever met, and we don't always get along, but I would give my life for you without hesitation." He took one hand, pulled out the small velvet box, and opened it. Then he held it up to Marlene. "Marlene, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

Marlene dropped to her knees as a tear ran down her cheek. "Yes," she said without even needing to think about it. Skipper smiled and let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. Then he kissed her as everyone around them applauded, whooped, and hollered. He didn't realize they'd tuned in, but he didn't care.

Finally, Marlene pulled away and Skipper took the ring out of the box and set the box on the floor. With a smile, Marlene took it from him and put her other hand over her mouth.

"Oh, Skipper, it's beautiful," she said. Then she noticed the engraving and sighed with awe. "_Always &amp; Forever_," she read. She took Skipper's face in her hands and kissed him again.

Skipper pulled away and took the ring back from her. Then he took her left hand and slipped it onto her ring finger.

"Merry Christmas, Marlene," he said, wiping the tears off Marlene's face.

Marlene put her hand over his. "Merry Christmas, Skipper."

— § —

Back in Manhattan, the day after Christmas, Skipper sat on his couch with a box of Kleenexes, pulling a cover up to his shoulders. Marlene came into the room with a bowl of hot soup.

"So, you never get sick, hm?" she asked with a smile.

Skipper sat forward and accepted the soup. "No," he started, his N sounding like a D, "you see, what happened is that germs have been scared of me for so long that they've decided to revolt."

Marlene laughed. "Of course. That _must_ be it. I've got to go take care of something. Be right back," she said, grabbing her coat and leaving his apartment.

Skipper gently blew the steam from a spoonful of soup and shoveled it into his mouth. Several minutes later, Marlene came back in carrying a bucket in one hand. Smiling, she sat down next to him and set the bucket on the floor between them. Skipper saw that it was filled with snow and he smiled, remembering when he'd done the same for her.

"So," Marlene said. Skipper looked at her as she smiled like a child. "Do you want to build a snowman?" she asked, mimicking the voice of the character in the movie.

Skipper chuckled. "Gosh, that movie's starting to get on my nerves."

"Aw, why?" Marlene asked, crossing her arms.

Skipper set his bowl on the coffee table. "Because no one will stop talking about it," he answered.

"Because it's a great movie! It's all about self-acceptance, and not letting fear control you," Marlene explained.

Skipper thought for a moment and looked at the ring on Marlene's finger. Then he smiled and wrapped his arm around her. "You're absolutely right. I love that movie, too."

— § —

**Note:** The inspiration for this came from the song _Flying Home for Christmas_ from the _Black &amp; White Christmas Album_ endorsed by the _Penguins of Madagascar Movie_. I hope you enjoyed it, and Merry Christmas!

First, a big thanks to Google Maps. I couldn't have done it without you, buddy. No, really, I couldn't have.

While Derek's character was fun to write, none of his views on women reflect mine. I'll let you be the judge on if you think he's right or not.

Bet you didn't think Sarah had the ring. Surprise!

I had a lot of fun writing this! I hope you enjoyed it, that I kept everyone relatively in character (with the exception of Gomer), and that it made for a good Christmas story! Please review!

Lastly, I went over this several times to check for plot holes, to make sure the times were accurate (taking time zones and flight times into account), and for grammar and punctuation typos. If you catch any mistake I didn't catch, please let me know.


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